And the Moon Smiled
by littlehorse
Summary: A new year, a new summary. What happens when you dump a Centaur from Eire into Middle Earth? Chaos, of course! PG-13 for mild language and mature content. In other words, violence. If you don't like, don't read.
1. The Dream

Hey there, everyone! This is your authoress speaking! I've just received some ingenious advice from Eternity's Voice and I'm going to follow it.  
  
And the Moon Smiled was my first story I'd ever written, so I'm going to do a little editing. Nothing major, but some stuff just has to go. For example, the first and second chapters will be combined and some errors will be corrected. I've also deleted my Author's Notes because they upset my chapter numbering, which has always annoyed me, but I've just not done anything about it until now.  
  
A big thanks to Eternity's Voice for her suggestions and very helpful comments! This new and revised chapter is for you! Even though you've read it already... Oh well. My next update will be for you too. ;)  
  


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Chapter 1: The Dream  
  


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Rhiannon Cealodhain ambled along the path to the nurseries, complaining to herself about what a horrible day she was having. Of course, going to see the younglings wasn't horrible, but cleaning up after them and staying up late into the dawn hours to tend to their whinnying protests was. After all, she was barely out of her filly years herself. Why should she have to take on the responsibilities of her recently deceased parents when she had three older sisters? Of course, she knew the answer to that. All of her sisters already had lifemates and younglings of their own to care for. They had no time to bother with abandoned younglings, especially since they were merely young horses, not civilized Centaurs. Though Rhiannon's heart went out to these pitiful animals, she couldn't stand such a responsibility.  
  
She knew it was an honor for her to be allowed to participate in the training and care of the horses. After all, her family had been the best horse trainers in an tSionainn. But being a Centaur, she should handle the horses well. Because she could run faster than most Centaurs and remain as graceful as a deer, a common attribute of Centaurs, it was easy to teach the younglings how to adopt her gaits as their own, therefore making the fastest horses in Eire. That thought brightened her spirit a little.  
  
As Rhiannon neared the clearing of her little wooded path, a sudden break in the trees where the sunlight shone through caught on her gold-colored coat, illuminating it smartly and sending ripples of light down to play on the grass. She smiled as she thought of how her mother used to say that the Sun must have come down and touched her with His rays when she was a foal.  
  
Rhiannon looked much like her mother, in fact, with her gold coat that darkened to black at her legs. She also shared the same ebony curls that surrounded her honey-colored face and cascaded down past her shoulders, almost touching her furred back. Her eyes were the most remarkable thing about her, being as gold as the rest of her, but strangely turned up at the corners. Those eyes turned sharply at a small noise to the right of her, then suddenly smiled along with her lips as she caught sight of her "stalker."  
  
Rhiannon shouted, "I see you!" and then laughed as her brother Lugh came out of the brush. Lugh had the same strangely shaped eyes as his sister, but his were so dark they were almost black, as was the rest of him.  
  
"I almost did it," he grumbled.  
  
Rhiannon simply laughed, "You never will," and grinned wickedly at his glare.  
  
She squealed girlishly as he lunged at her, then galloped the rest of the way to the nurseries, Lugh hot on her tail.  
  


* * *

The night was cool, but not so cool that Rhiannon had to lay down another blanket in the tent she shared with Lugh. She settled down on the thin sleeping mat, thinking about her day. It had been hard work at the nurseries, but not any harder than it usually was. It left her satisfied, but tired. Sleep came easily...  
  
_Darkness, nothingness, cold. Where am I? What's happening? A reply: **You are in the beginning of things.** Suddenly, a light, a sense of moving forward. A strange world. What do you want from me? **Your help** Why? **Because you have The Gift.** I don't know what you're talking about. Cold laughter. Fire, burning, make it stop, please what do you want helpmeLughhelpme--_  
  
Rhiannon sat bolt upright on her blanket, sweating and shaking. The dream. It had been so real, but Rhiannon couldn't be sure if it wasn't either. She tried to get back to sleep, but her thoughts prevented her. Finally, she got up from her sleeping mat and went outside to look at the stars.  
  
The Moon was full, like a big, white jewel shining its eerie light and giving everything a silvery tint. For a while, she just stood there, drinking in the light like a plant, letting it chase away her fear. Suddenly, she felt a cool calm come over her, and she forgot the strange dream. It was as if the whole of nature was comforting her, giving her strength for what it knew would come. And very faintly, she felt and then heard a gentle throbbing, like a great heartbeat, surrounding her, becoming her. Her eyes widened as she came out of the trance. The trees and grass laughed at her surprise, and the moon smiled. Or did it?  
  
_Don't be silly Rhiannon, trees and grass don't laugh and the moon can't smile._  
  
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't convince herself otherwise. Rhiannon shook her head and went back to the tent that she and her brother shared, and sank into a troubled sleep.  
  


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Well, that's all for now. I'll be revising the other chapters in my spare time, but now I have to go. I'm supposed to be at school, but we had a 2 hour delay because of snow. Of course, news of the delay came AFTER I had already showered and dressed, so I couldn't sleep in and I had nothing to do for 2 and a half hours. But, alas, school awaits. See you guys later!  
  
Your Crazy Authoress,  
  
littlehorse :) 


	2. Into Middle Earth

hello all. sorry it took so long to get my next chapter up. i was feeling very lazy and im very caught up in Cassia's absolute genius in writing. ill try to be more faithful from now on. i promise. oh, and all of Rhiannon's thoughts are in *s.  
  
Rhiannon slept late that morning. She was having one of her favorite dreams (the one where an absolute STUD of a Centaur was giving her a back massage). Then everything brightened and a beautiful white light was surrounding her. She didn't know how to describe it. It was so, so....so in her face, partly because Lugh had opened the flaps of their tent and was now shouting at her at the top of his lungs to get up you sleepyhead. Rhiannon groaned and flopped back down on her sleeping mat. Suddenly something extremely cold and wet hit her in the face. It didn't take much then for her groggy horse legs to hoist up her sleep-laden body and scream a death threat to Lugh.   
  
*Well, I might as well get up now. That was my favorite dream. I'll get back at Lugh for that, I just have to think up something adequate for a felony of such magnitude.*  
  
After a nice, long wash in the stream, Rhiannon went for her morning run. This consisted mainly of an open prairie and ended on a trail in the woods. As she cantered along, she collected her thoughts and ran through her schedule for the day.  
  
*feed Lugh* *feed myself* *feed Lugh* *start lunch* *feed Lugh* *help Mrs. Colhoran with her garden* *feed Lugh (or should I?)* *feed myself* *THEN I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!!!!!*  
  
For some reason, her dream had completely slipped her mind.  
  
When Rhiannon reached the wooded path, she slowed down to a meandering trot. This was her favorite place in all Eire and she wouldn't hurry through for anything. She like this place because it seemed so peaceful. Actually, it was an aspen grove. Through the silver trees, the sun shone down on a winding brook and reflected off the leaves, making the entire place look like a winter faerie land that never melted and stayed throughout the summer. Rhiannon stopped and stepped gracefully into the brook, letting the water cool her feet and the wind blow through her mane. Rhiannon closed her eyes, savoring the moment and embedding it in her memory, along with many others much the same.  
  
Suddenly the previously cool and comforting wind sang with alarm and danger. Rhiannon's eyes snapped open--only to reveal a completely different place. Her peaceful brook had turned into a wide river, strangely shallow, and her aspen grove into an open field.  
  
Rhiannon's eyes widened in shock and suprise as she gazed around her. Surrounding the field on three sides were woods, but that wasn't what suprised Rhiannon. On the fourth side of the field was a magnificent city/mansion, she wasn't sure which. She nodded approval as she noted that the buildings had been built around the trees, not where trees had been.  
  
But there were still two very opressing questions that were far more important than her opinion of the city/mansion.  
  
*Where am I? And why am I here?*  
  
of course, all of u kno the answer to that. not much of a cliffhanger, but im bored and i cant think of a better way to end it. if u can, review this story and see if u can show me up. id be glad for any reviews since i only have one. oh, by the way, i forgot to tell u how to pronounce Rhiannon's name. its irish, so its kinda hard.   
  
Rhiannon= Ree-ann-in Cealodhain= Kuh-lod-in (the "o" is long)  
  
im writing two chapters tonight, maybe three, but i have to see when my parents will make me go to bed. ill try my best. 


	3. Rivendell

hello all. i forgot about a disclaimer, so here it is.  
  
I do not own any recognizable Lord of the Rings characters. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkein. I do, however, own Rhiannon and her brother Lugh.  
  
i hate legal stuff. so confusing. okay, finally im getting to the good part in my story. i kno, im very slow. but, good things come to those who wait. youre probably not reading this, because i never read anything above the story, i just get down to the interesting part, so all of this is completely pointless. now im getting bored with myself. god, what is the world coming to?  
  
Suddenly, the foreign water in the river seemed threatening and icy cold, running faster and faster and getting deeper all the time. Rhiannon shivered and hurried out of the liquid death.  
  
Rhiannon wandered down the field towards the woods, away from the strange city/mansion.  
  
*I wonder what the people here are like? And more importantly, would they kill me if i suddenly showed up in their house without an invitation? Hmmm. Let's experiment.*  
  
But before Rhiannon could continue in her scientific discoveries, a high-pitched, inhuman scream filled the crisp morning air and Rhiannon looked up sharply. Her eyes widened in fear as she watched nine wraith-like riders dressed in black chase a woman on a white horse to the river.  
  
*Damn, I'm on the wrong side of the river!*  
  
Rhiannon wheeled around and on a sudden burst of adrenaline, raced to the river just as the woman on the white horse caught up with her.  
  
The hairs on Rhiannon's neck prickled as she felt a warm breath invade on her personal space. She looked around in fear, only to see one of the black riders pulling up on her flank. Rhiannon immediately took her bow from her shoulder (luckily, she had brought it with her that morning) and as swift as lightning loaded and shot a silver arrow at the wraith-rider. It had absolutely no result.  
  
*Shit. You can't kill them. Well, their horses are real enough. Maybe.....*  
  
Just as quickly as before, Rhiannon loaded another arrow and aimed lower this time, at the horse's heart. This had slightly more effect than the other arrow. The horse didn't die, as Rhiannon had hoped it would, but it reared up, almost knocking its rider from its back. Rhiannon smiled in satisfaction and turned back around so she could see where she was going. She then realized that she was riding alongside the woman on the white horse. Rhiannon then noticed for the first time that the woman wasn't the only one on the horse. She was holding desperately onto a small, limp figure dressed in green, its hood pulled up.  
  
The woman glanced briefly at Rhiannon, then did a comical double-take as her eyes widened in surprise at having seen a half horse half girl. Rhiannon smiled at her and sped along to the river, easily outrunning all of the riders. When she reached the river, Rhiannon leaped half-way into the river and struggled as fast as she could with the swift current.  
  
She was about to continue on to the city/mansion when she realized that the woman might need some help. Her horse looked like it did, anyway. So she waited while the woman exchanged scathing words with the wraith-riders, then said something in a strange language. The result was a giant tidal wave crashing down on the riders that had entered the river. The white horse jumped expertly out of the way and brought its riders safely to the other side of the river.   
  
Rhiannon trotted to the woman's side and said, "Do you need some help? Wait, why am I asking that? Of course you need some help. I'm Rhiannon Cealodhain."  
  
Rhiannon held out her hand to the astonished woman, who didn't take it.  
  
"Who are you?" the woman asked.  
  
Rhiannon sighed impatiently. "Rhiannon Cealodhain. I told you that already. Hey, um, your buddy doesn't look too good. I don't think you want to stand here talking to me, he doesn't have much time left."  
  
The woman nodded as Rhiannon said, "I could let you ride me back to wherever you're headed. I'm still fresh, and your horse looks like he could use a rest."  
  
Again, the woman nodded, too astonished to speak. Rhiannon knelt down graciously and picked up the small bundle of green cloth and barely breathing flesh. She waited for the woman to mount her and immediately sprang up from the ground. "Where ya headed?" she asked. "To Rivendell." "Where's that?" The woman looked at her strangely and nodded at the city/mansion. "Okay, then. Hold on." With that, Rhiannon leapt away like a deer, and in barely two minutes made it to the city gates. There, the woman slid off of her back and took her companion from Rhiannon's arms.  
  
Even in her time-pressed situation, the woman had the grace to thank her and ask her if she had a place to stay. Rhiannon said no and the woman offered her the hospitality of her and her father. Rhiannon accepted gratefully, as she had no place to sleep.  
  
On sudden inspiration, Rhiannon remembered that she still didn't know the woman's name. She asked, and the woman replied, "I am Arwen. My father is Lord Elrond of Rivendell. This is his--our--home." Rhiannon's eyebrow went up as she stared at the city/mansion.  
  
*Well, at least I know that it's somebody's house, not a city.*  
  
Still shaking her head in wonder, Rhiannon followed the woman into the silver gates, and into the light.  
  
Dun dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnn. Ha Ha. I made a joke. No cliffie, just a boring ending. Sorry, can't do another chapter tonight. My parents are making me go to bed now. Oh well. I have two days off of school tomorrow, so I'll have lots of time to write then. 


	4. I'm NOT a Horse!

ok. im really sorry i havent been updating very often. wait, that's an understatement. anyway, ive been grounded on and off and i havent had a lot of time to post anything new. however, i have been writing in my spare time, even if i havent posted it yet. please dont be mad at me, it was my evil twin. anyway, heres my chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable LOTR characters. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkein. I do however, own Rhiannon and her brother Lugh (he isnt going to be in the fic anymore. im bored of him.) If anyone dares to take them without my permission, I will hunt you down and.....I have no idea what I'd do to you, but don't push your luck.  
  
*Holy crap* Such was Rhiannon's first thought as she walked through the gates of Rivendell. The mansion looked even bigger than it had when she was far away. The buildings were made of some kind of silver wood that Rhiannon didn't recognize. The outside was decorated with open terraces, statues, and tinkling fountains. Rhiannon gazed around in awe as everyone completely ignored her. Arwen left her with one of the guards while everyone else bustled around the small green bundle she was carrying.  
  
*Humph. Well, isn't that just like humans. Or whatever they are. Here, I'm the one who just saved that thing's life, and do I get any thanks? I think not.*  
  
Other than the small audience Arwen and her companion (even if it was unconscious) had gained, there weren't any other signs of life in the huge mansion. It was relatively quiet.  
  
*It'd be a nice vacation center. No psychotic people. No siblings. Wait, isn't that the same thing?*  
  
Finally, after a healer had taken Arwen's companion away, the attention was turned to Rhiannon. She watched with mild amusement at the stupefied expressions on the faces of the crowd.  
  
Before the awkward silence could continue, however, Arwen stepped in and said to a nearby guard, "This is Rhiannon Cealodhain. She has saved mine and Frodo's lives. See to it that she gets comfortable quarters and a meal."  
  
The guard nodded nervously and gestured for Rhiannon to follow him. While they were walking, Rhiannon tried to make friendly conversation with the man to ease the tension. This wasn't very effective as the man found it strange to be talking with a horse/girl.  
  
It wasn't long until they came to a large, one-story building surrounded by huge, fenced-in pastures.  
  
*No WAY!*  
  
Out loud, Rhiannon said, "The STABLES?! ARE YOU CRAZY? Whaddaya think I am, a horse?! " The guard, caught by suprise, stuttered hasty apologies and asked where she would like to stay.  
  
Rhiannon snorted and rolled her eyes.  
  
*The nerve!*  
  
"Wherever you people sleep." The guard muttered a shaky "Ok." and led her in the complete opposite direction, which was also the direction of the mansion, Rhiannon saw with appreciation. After about five minutes walk, they came to a smaller wing of the mansion which Rhiannon assumed was the guest rooms.  
  
They walked along a long corridor, all silver and statues and paintings of valiant deeds, until they came to the last room in the corridor. It also happened to be the biggest room in the corridor.  
  
"Whoa. This is a big, friggin room. Thank you very much. You can go now."  
  
He told her that after she had rested, someone would be sent to bring her to the Lord Elrond. The guard then left in a hurry.  
  
*Pressing matters maybe. What's so strange about a Centaur? We're one of the most civilized beings in Eire, besides man.*  
  
::What makes you think you're in Eire?::, said a nasty little voice in the back of her head.  
  
*Oh shut up. Who are you and why are you in my head?*  
  
::I am the One who sent you the dream. Or, have you already forgotten that?::  
  
Rhiannon gasped. She had forgotten the dream. Now it poured back into her brain with such force that it made her head hurt.  
  
*Ok, I don't know who you are, and I have a feeling that if I ask you, you're just going to give me more riddles that make my head hurt. So now I'm going to ignore you and go into my room and see if it has a bath. Then I am going to relax and think about happy things. I wonder if there's a library in this place?*  
  
There was, indeed, a bath in The Big Friggin Room. Actually, it was more of a pool than a bath. It was also just right for a Centaur. Instead of a tub, it was sunken into the floor and looked much like a hotspring, as the water was perpetually hot and bubbled like one.  
  
Rhiannon quickly took off the deerskin tunic that had been dyed red and embroidered with gold thread to match her eyes. She layed it on a chair next to her bow and quiver of arrows. She then daintily went down the steps that led down into the bath and sighed with pleasure as she felt all the sweat and dirt simply float off of her.  
  
After a few moments of peaceful bliss, Rhiannon set about the dangerous task of her hair. It had tangled again, and because it was so long, it took forever to get the tangles out so that she could wash it properly.  
  
After twenty minutes of tearing out her hair, she looked about for soap. Finally, she saw a silver shelf full of oils, bar soaps, rose petals, and richly embroidered towels. Feeling like she should save the rose petals for a special occasion, she took the best-smelling bar soap she could find.  
  
Half an hour later, a much cleaner and fresher Rhiannon emerged from the bath. She shook herself dry and took a towel to her hair. Wrapping the towel on her head like a turban, she took another towel, which she wrapped around her human midsection.  
  
*Let's see what humans wear. I've always wondered how they could possibly get into those tight, confining things.*  
  
But when she opened the large, cedar wardrobe, which obviously contained clothes, there were no confining "trousers." Instead, there were rows and rows of the most beautiful tunics Rhiannon had ever seen.  
  
*Okay, this is officially freaking me out. How could they possibly know that I'm not human when none of my kind has ever been here before?*  
  
Shaking her head, she picked a fiery red tunic with gold embroidery and beading. The dye was like nothing she had ever seen before, and it made her magnificent deerskin tunic look shabby and worn. When she put it on, she found it to fit perfectly and comfortably, not stiff and itchy, like she had expected.  
  
Going to the vanity next to the bed, she picked up a brush with stiff boar bristles and began to work her way through her wet hair. With that task done, she gazed around her room and found that it also had a kind of patio that gave a spectacular view of the valley and the river. Rhiannon opened the twin double doors and stepped out onto the porch.  
  
The sun was almost directly above her, telling her that it was just before noon. Although the sun looked hot and scorching, the wind blew with a cool gentleness that enveloped her and caressed her skin. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, feeling His warmth on her face, and reveling in it.  
  
She began to sway in the breeze, now fully in tune with the wind. It leapt with joy, as only wind can, and whispered to her excitedly, delighted that it had found a new friend. Rhiannon opened her eyes and listened. For the first time in her life, she really, truly listened. And then she began to see, really, truly see.  
  
And she saw the individual trees, and heard their song of growth and life, and knew them, though they were far away. That beech tree over there was old and had seen many things. She told Rhiannon the secrets of the valley and of the elves, as Rhiannon had learned they were called. Then the pine that grew next to the beech tree joined in the conversation. Rhiannon laughed with joy at the thought of talking to trees.  
  
Suddenly, the wind joined in too, telling them that there were visitors coming across the river, hinting that maybe Rhiannon would have some interest in them. Rhiannon nodded and said goodbye to her new friends. The wind laughed and said in its whispery voice, "But we will never leave you. You have The Gift, and The Gift will never leave you either. Not many people talk to us, and we are glad for the company. But here is a piece of advice, for you will need it later. Remember this always: there are no accidents. Whatever happens happens for a reason. Now go, you are wanted."  
  
Rhiannon's head turned with a snap. There was a sharp knock at the door. Suddenly she realized that her hair was dry.  
  
*The wind must have done it. Wow. This is just too much.*  
  
The knock was getting more persisitent and Rhiannon yelled, "Alright, alright, already! I'm coming!" and pulled open the door to find a very irritated elf standing there.  
  
wow. i didnt know i could be so sentimental. anyway, more is coming. ive already started on my next chapter. i hope you liked this one. it is kind of a break from my usual sarcastic self, but Rhiannon had to have a deeper personality than that. I didn't get to post this chapter right when i finished it because my sister wouldn't get off the computer and when i finally did get a chance to go on, i only had 10 minutes, so this chapter is kinda late. i wish there were more hours in a day. well then, i hafta go. ill post my next chapter soon. 


	5. Too Many Questions

hello all. here's my next chapter. hope u like it. wow, im tired. u kno, im not really feeling very motivated to continue updating because like, no one is reviewing my story. im not going to stop posting, but dont expect an update every week. oh, and i did read the books years before the movies came out, so ive done my research. im just using the movie's story-line b/c otherwise it would take forever. ok ill shut up now.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable LOTR characters. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkein. I do, however, own Rhiannon. If you steal her, I will torture you to no end.  
  
"The Lord Elrond wishes to see you." The elf looked her up and down. "It is good that you are ready, for my Lord does not like to be kept waiting."  
  
*Pushy people, these elves.*  
  
The elf led her down many passages, hallways, and through many rooms, until finally, they came to a huge, high-ceilinged room with many chairs all in a semi-circle around the room. The largest chair was occuped by a tall, brown-haired elf with a wise and knowing face. The other chairs were occuped by elves of obvious high status. Rhiannon was pleased and relieved to see Arwen there.  
  
The brown-haired elf stood and said, "I am the Lord Elrond of Rivendell. I hope your room is comfortable?"  
  
"Yes, thank you. Your people have been most hospitable. I am Rhiannon of Clan Cealodhain, at your service." She then put her fist over her heart, inclined her head slightly, and bent one knee in the traditional Clan greeting.  
  
Elrond gestured to a place at the end of the circle and indicated for her to sit. She sat, as best she could. Actually, she was really lying down with her legs folded underneath her, but she kept her back straight and held up her head so it didn't look like she was falling asleep.  
  
"I have been told by my daughter, the Lady Arwen, that you saved Frodo's life," he said once she settled down.  
  
"Oh, is that his name? And, actually, her horse was half-dead, so maybe I did it more for the horse."  
  
"I see," Elrond said with a half-smile. "Nonetheless, you have saved Frodo's life, and for that we are eternally thankful."  
  
"No thanks needed. I saw trouble, and I didn't really have much else to do at the time, so I helped."  
  
Elrond nodded graciously. "And now, if you please, where are you from? We have never seen any of your kind before."  
  
"I am from Eire, and everyone for hundreds of miles around looks like me. The only Men we see are the Horse-traders, and they come from the East looking for messenger horses," Rhiannon smiled proudly. "We Centaurs breed the fastest and finest horses in the land."  
  
"Eire?" an elf shorter than Elrond and topped with light blonde hair frowned. "This is Middle Earth. How did you say you got here?"  
  
Rhiannon made a face. "I didn't say, but, if you insist, I don't really know. I was going on my morning run and stopped at a stream to cool my feet. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them, it was different. I was standing in the middle of that river in the valley out there. Then I saw these black-robed people on horses rushing at me and I decided that getting out of the river might be a good idea. Then I met Arwen, and the rest you know."  
  
She looked at the faces filled with skepticism that surrounded her and felt a little vulnerable. "What are you going to do with me?"  
  
"That, I'm afraid, I do not know," Elrond said. "Obviously, your coming here was done by magic, and magic is never done for no reason." He noticed her chagrined look and added, "But I can assure you that we will find some way for you to get back home."  
  
Rhiannon smiled in relief. "Thank you very much," she said with feeling.  
  
Elrond invited her to stay for as long as she liked, and, just as she was getting up to leave, the door burst open and a rather unusual company walked in.  
  
One man and three people like the one Arwen had been carrying strode through the door oblivious to the the protests of the guards and the complaints of various other servants. Well, the man strode. The little people scurried through the door in a way that reminded her vaguely of squirrels running towards a choice nut.  
  
One of the little people, the one with curly dirty-blonde hair, shouted up from his place very near the floor, "Where's Mr. Frodo? What have you done with him?" Looking up at Rhiannon, he added, And who and what are you?"  
  
Rhiannon frowned and lifted one eyebrow at the same time, an expression that made her look amused and exasperated at the same time.  
  
"For the last time, I am a CENTAUR!!! A CENTAUR for the gods' sakes! I've barely been here half a day and already I've been asked that question too many times to count!" Rhiannon finished her tirade by throwing her hands up into the air and muttering under her breath in a liquid, horsey-sounding language.  
  
Elrond chuckled while the other occupants of the room looked in surprise at this strange new side of the polite horse-girl in front of them. "Yes, far to often." Turning to the blonde person he said, "Samwise Gamgee, this is Rhiannon Cealodhain, Frodo's rescuer."  
  
The person he referred to as Samwise widened his eyes and looked at Rhiannon in a new light. Then he started a new barrage of questions. "How is Mr. Frodo? What's happened to him? Did they heal his wound? What--" Rhiannon held up a hand to silence him.  
  
"The last time I saw this Frodo person, he was barely able to cling onto a horse, much less talk to me in a normal conversation. I didn't even find out his name until just before you so rudely interrupted.  
  
To Elrond she said, "He was wounded? We Centaurs are reknowned healers. I could help, if you like. Even if you've healed the wound, he will have a fever, and, more often than not, it's the fever that kills, not the wound.  
  
Elrond smiled graciously. "You have already helped us so much, and now you are going to put us in your debt again. Do as you wish. We can hardly say no."  
  
Rhiannon smiled and nodded her head politely at the elves before allowing a guard to show her the way into the room where Frodo was being kept.  
  
Frodo opened his eyes briefly. The light was blinding. He felt cold all over, but hot at the same time. He looked to the source of the light to find a person there unlike anything he had ever seen. She was tall, taller even than Strider. He vaguely wondered why until he saw her golden horse body and and pointed, horse-like ears. Her eyes were strange. *No, more like different, because when you think of strange, you often think of ugly.* he thought.  
  
But this person was definitely not ugly. Her elfin face and slanted golden eyes added to the alien beauty that seemed to radiate from her like heat. She looked at him with those strange eyes and said something in a language he didn't understand. Her words were water, falling like drops of dew from her lips. He couldn't understand what she was saying, but he was sure it was something comforting.  
  
Suddenly, a spasm of pain shook his body. The girl whispered something in her liquid language and reached down to close his eyes. He shuddered one more time and blankness overtook his mind.  
  
well, do you like? im finally updating after so long. i know. just shoot me. i had to write a mystery story for my english class, and that has taken up all of my time. not to mention that im on the basketball team and i only had one free day a week, which had to be spent on my mystery story. im posting it on fiction press if ne1 wants to read it. anyway, pleeeeeeeeeeze review! i need feed back! please tell me how im doing, b/c my family reads my stuff, but they have to say its ok. so plze be honest. just dont make me feel too bad. :( 


	6. Drained

Aha! A new chapter! Is she still alive, you say? Sadly, yes. The reason for my absence is in the author's note posted previously to this chapter, so I won't go in depth. However, I have found the time to post a few of my sister's poems, so if anyone wants to read them, feel free. On to my chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: NO, for the last frigging time, I do not own anything J.R.R. Tolkein. God knows I wish I did.  
  
By the way, some of you may be wondering about the world Rhiannon is from.  
  
Yes, I know, Eire is Irish for Ireland, and Ireland is in this world, but do Centaurs exist in this world? The obvious answer is no. My world is a parallel universe to this one. The land formations and general human population are the same. So are the names of everything. But, this is several hundred years in the past, so there is no technology like there is today. There are also many mythical creatures present in this world. I'm not going to name them all, but just think of the stuff in legends, and it'll probably be there. Maybe I'll invent a few mythical creatures of my own and introduce them.  
  
Also, in my fic, Middle Earth is a parallel universe to Rhiannon's, so that's why there are no language barriers, and many of the things there are going to be familiar to Rhiannon.  
  
Or, maybe not on to my chapter.  
  
I'd like to make some acknowledgements. As I continue to read more fantasy and science fiction books, my style constantly changes, and so do the things I often base my characters on. So, here are the books that have majorly impacted my writing:  
  
Goddess by Mistake, by P.C. Cast: This is where I got the name Rhiannon. Her personality is also much like that of the main character in this book.  
  
The Acorna Series, by Anne McCaffrey: Rhiannon's language is much like the language of the Linyaari people in these books. I won't copy it, obviously, but it will sound a lot like McCaffrey's work. I just liked the way it flowed, so don't sue me, k?  
  
A Wizard Abroad, by Diane Duane: The inspiration for something Irish came from this book. I am part Irish, and I've always loved Ireland and wanted to go there, so this book was like heaven on Earth to me. Oh, yeah, I got the name Cealodhain from this book, too. And Lugh.  
  
The Young Wizard's Series, by Diane Duane: Rhiannon's Gift is a lot like Nita's magic in these books. For those who don't know, Nita is a wizard, and her specialty is with living things. Again, I won't copy everything exactly, but I've always kinda been a nature buff, and this drew me to write about something with nature.  
  
I recommend all of these books to everyone. They are awesome examples of fantasy/science fiction. To the writers of these books: There, I've given you credit, don't sue me. I'm not even stealing anything, so you can't sue me anyway. HA!  
  
Is she ever going to shut up? Yes, I've finally run out of things to blab about. Here's my chapter.  
  
**********  
  
Rhiannon stumbled out of the room. To the eyes of the concerned onlookers, her face was extremely pale and sickly, and a subtle sheen of sweat covered her forehead.  
  
One elf asked if she was okay. "Yes, I'm fine. So is Frodo. I'm going to rest in my room. No one bother me for a couple hours."  
  
She then proceeded to stumble about like a drunk (for those who don't know, a drunken Centaur is a very funny sight) until she found her room. There, she collapsed onto the floor, pulling a blanket off the bed and hugging it to her. She began shaking uncontrollably, and she lapsed into unconsciousness.  
  
Her dreams were strange. Strange and fleeting, as if they were leaves floating in a swiftly flowing stream. She saw memories from her life: her mother singing to her as a child, her first encounter with a specter, seeing the mage-Centaurs perform dazzling light shows for the summer solstace. Most of these memories she had forgotten about, and they seemed simple and unimportant compared to the things that had been happening to her lately.  
  
For four straight hours she lay there. The elves that had seen her stumble out of Frodo's room dared not come in to check on her. They were afraid of her enough as it was. They didn't need her to fly at them in a rage if they disobeyed her request.  
  
Finally, Rhiannon awoke with a pounding headache. She groaned and pushed herself off the floor. She looked blearily at her large, four-poster and highly inaccessible bed and made a mental note to have the elves take the mattress off the frame for her so she could actually sleep comfortably.  
  
Holding her head in her hands, she moved as slow as she could to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. She then looked up at the mirror and saw her reflection there. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face still deathly pale, and she was shaking.  
  
She spoke out loud to her reflection in a weak voice. "Never, ever again. I am never going to strain myself like that again."  
  
She remembered one Centaur who had pushed his healing magic to the limit and had ended up dying because he had drawn on his life force to compensate for the lack of power. Rhiannon had come dangerously close to that mark.  
  
All Centaurs had magic of some kind. Most were healers, but there were the rare few that got to continue their education because of a different kind of magic. Her great-grandam had been a Priestess of Epona, and had had weather magic. Her mother had had thread magic. All of the females in her family for generations had had some kind of strange magic. Except Rhiannon. For some reason, the magic seemed to have skipped her.  
  
Then Rhiannon remembered talking to the trees and the wind. She must have some kind of elemental magic that had not shown up until later in her life. That had happened to many Centaurs before her.  
  
Now, somewhat calmed down, Rhiannon took a deep breath and closed her eyes, thinking. Usually, after such a great magical working, you needed rest and good food. Rest she had had plenty of, but she had not eaten at all that day, she remembered with a start. No wonder the healing had taken its time. She hadn't had the energy.  
  
She decided to take another bath and make herself presentable. Then she would go eat her extremely belated breakfast.  
  
When she was sufficiently clean, Rhiannon again went to the enormous wardrobe to pick another tunic. The red one she had been wearing earlier was soaked with sweat.  
  
She chose a simple black one with no sleeves and that bared her brown and well-muscled midriff and walked slowly to her door to see about her food. She walked slowly because her headache had not yet completely worn off.  
  
As soon as she opened the door, she was met by a tall, blond haired elf with green eyes. He asked if she needed anything, and she responded with her request for food.  
  
"Anything green. No meat, no eggs, no nothing from other animals. I'm a vegetarian," she added when she saw the strange look on the elf's face. He shrugged and ran off to put in her strange order to the kitchens.  
  
Rhiannon went to the balcony and stood in the sun, waiting for her food. It was getting late. Already, a few stars had popped out of their hiding places, and the sun's dying rays cast a red glow over the valley. The voices of the living things in the valley had quieted some and were preparing themselves for a night's rest.  
  
A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. She opened it and stood back to allow six elves to enter. Each was carrying a huge platter the size of a millstone, and each platter was laden with Rhiannon's favorite vegetables and salads. On one was many combinations of fruit, on another was fresh vegetables still wet with dew, and yet another held entire heads of cabbage and lettuce.  
  
She turned back to the elves long enough to say thank you, then continued staring at the heaps of food.  
  
*All this is for me?*  
  
The elves left as quickly as they had come, and, as soon as they were gone, Rhiannon dove at the platters. Ignoring the oil viniagrette in a dish next to a salad, she picked up a strange, reddish leaf and nibbled it cautiously. When she found it to be very good, she stuffed it in her mouth and then proceeded to completely devastate the rest of that platter. She then moved on to the fruit platter. Some of the fruits were completely foreign to her, but she found that they were good too, so she ate them without hesitation.  
  
Within half an hour, all the food was gone. Rhiannon was, after all, a Centaur and had two stomachs: one human one and one horse one. Centaurs were also vegetarians because of their horse-like natures, so Rhiannon's vegetarian lifestyle was not her own choice; it was because she could not eat anything else.  
  
When she looked out the window once more, Rhiannon saw that, while she had eaten, the sun had set all the way, and the sky was just turning from the deep blue of twilight to the midnight blackness of deep sleep.  
  
Rhiannon decided that since it was so late, she would get some more sleep and restore her power back to normal rather than go back to pester Elrond with more questions. She frowned at the four-poster bed and yanked the mattress off of it herself. She was too tired to wait for more elves to come.  
  
When she had settled herself in her nest of sheets and pillows, Rhiannon slipped immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
  
**********  
  
Nnnnng. Boring ending. I had to include a lot of Centaur history in this chapter. I don't blame you if you fell asleep in the middle of it. Tell me what you thought. Flames don't faze me, so don't waste the energy. If you have some real constructive critism, then by all means review.  
  
If anyone on this site happens to be Irish, please review and give me some info. I've done research and stuff, but it's always better to have a first hand account rather than trust the evil documentaries. Those things are always wrong anyway.  
  
You know, it feels really good to have finally updated. Like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. I should do it more often. I'll try, anyway. See all you guys later.  
  
-littlehorse :) 


	7. Many Annoying Meetings

Hello all. I'm back. This chapter will be a lot more interesting than the last. I promise. One thing. I know Frodo sleeps for four nights and three days in the book, but in this story, since Rhiannon healed him, he's going to wake up in two days. So. You'll find out why when you read on.  
  
Disclaimer: I would own LOTR, but my lawyer won't tell the judge that I was Tolkein in a past life. :(  
  
Chapter...what chapter is this? Can someone tell me what chapter this is? Oh, 8. Heh.  
  
When Rhiannon awoke, she was surprised to note that she didn't have a headache. In fact, she felt absolutely, positively great! *How long did I sleep? I should be half-dead.*  
  
She sat up, looking around. There was an old man sitting in the chair opposite her bed/nest smoking a pipe.  
  
"You know, that'll kill you one day."  
  
The old man laughed, but put out his pipe. "You must be Rhiannon. They tell me you healed Frodo. Thank you."  
  
"If I hear that one more time, I'm going to strangle something. Yeah, I healed him. So what?"  
  
"Nothing. Just thank you."  
  
Rhiannon groaned and struggled to her feet. It was then that she realized that she was absolutely starving. "Where's the dining hall in this maze they call a house?"  
  
The old man smiled again. "My name is Gandalf. I'll show you where it is."  
  
"Mind if I get ready first? I look like I've slept for two days."  
  
"Actually, you have."  
  
"What? Why didn't anyone wake me?"  
  
"I think it was something about you telling them not to bother you."  
  
"Oh. But I only told them a couple hours, not a couple days! I must look really scary to them."  
  
"Well, you are different."  
  
Rhiannon snorted. "I'm going to change."  
  
She went to her wardrobe, selected a pale yellow tunic, and went into the bathroom to change. After she had splashed some water on her face, she combed through her hair and tied it back in a half pony tail, leaving the rest to wave about her midsection.  
  
Grumbling about being too hungry to take a bath, Rhiannon left her guest quarters and followed Gandalf to a large dining hall. The room was painted a pale blue and had a blue-grey stone floor. A large table inhabited the middle of the room, and was covered with every kind of breakfast food imaginable, including a large assortment of fruits, Rhiannon saw with relief.   
  
She noticed that she wasn't the only one eating there today. The man and the three little people that had interrupted the meeting two days ago were there. She also noticed another little person that looked a lot older than the others present. A scattered assortment of elves reclined luxuriously in the large chairs that encircled the table. *How the hell do they expect me to sit in those things?*  
  
As if reading her mind, Gandalf showed her a table very low to the floor, but just right for her to sit at. On the table was her very own platter, complete with the very fruits she had eaten two nights before.  
  
Rhiannon rushed over to the mini-table and plopped down in front of her plate, loading it with half of the fruit on the platter.  
  
She was about to dig in as she had previously when she remembered that there were other people in the room. Instead, she picked daintily at the fruit and sipped at the goblet of spring water set before her, looking through half-closed eyes at the other occupants of the room.  
  
Two of the little people ate without caring who was in the room with them. The third sat silently at his chair, staring at the food and looking worried. *He's the one that asked me all the questions about Frodo.* Rhiannon frowned. *He must be really worried.*  
  
Even though Rhiannon could be extremely irritable at times, she was also very compassionate. She swallowed the rest of the grape she had been eating, rose from her place on the floor, and walked over to the distraught little person.  
  
Even when she stood two feet away from him he didn't notice her. She cleared her throat and he jumped, then looked up at her warily.  
  
Rhiannon smiled at him. "Don't worry about Frodo. His body needs time to mend. I assume he's slept for as long as I have?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"It's normal. That's what happened to my brother Lugh when he got sick with small pox." (AN: did small pox even exist then? Oh well.)  
  
A relieved smile broke out over the young man's face. "I'm sorry I've been so rude. My name's Samwise Gamgee. But you can call me Sam. And thank you so much for helping Mr. Frodo."  
  
"No problem. My name's Rhiannon Cealodhain. You can call me Rhea. Everyone at home does." Briefly, a shadow of a frown passed over her face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, and Sam wasn't even sure it had really been there.  
  
He nodded, then turned around to motion his two other companions over. They seemed to be very hyper.  
  
"This is Peregrin Took, or Pippin, and this is Meriadoc Brandybuck, or Merry."  
  
They grinned mischeivously at her, reminding her once more of Lugh.  
  
Then Pippin piped up, "Where are you from? We've never seen the likes of you before."  
  
"That's because we've never been out of the Shire before," Merry reminded him.  
  
Rhiannon snorted. "I come from Eire, but now even I'm not sure where that is anymore."  
  
The three little people looked genuinely confused. Then Rhiannon remembered something. "What are you guys? I've never seen anyone like you before, except the faeries, but they're smaller than you." She sniffed her nose at Merry and Pippin. "And more elegant."  
  
Sam answered that one. "We're hobbits, of course. But what're faeries?"  
  
"The Little People. Sprites, leprechauns. They have many names. We have legends about them, but no one knows if they're true."  
  
"Oh." Sam looked even more confused than before.  
  
Just then, Gandalf appeared and made the announcement that Frodo was awake. That was a little unnecessary since Frodo was walking with him.  
  
Sam, Merry, and Pippin ran over to Frodo, smiling and clapping him on the back. Rhiannon, who had never liked being the center of attention sneaked away from the group over to her little table. Unfortunately, because of her hard hooves, this was virtually impossible. She winced at the loud clopping noise they made and hoped no one noticed her.  
  
She was halfway to her table when Gandalf looked back at her and called her over to him. She grimaced, but turned around and put a cheery smile on her face. Gandalf introduced her to Frodo, which seemed odd to Rhiannon because she did, in a sense, already know him. He was the one that didn't know her. Or not.  
  
"You're the one that was in my room! There was light everywhere. You said something wierd." He looked at her confusedly. "What did you do?"  
  
Rhiannon looked around nervously. "I healed you. But please don't tell everyone. I don't want people knowing how I do that."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, because then I would be swamped by people asking for healings. Then people would go looking for more Centaurs. It's happened before. We used to do healings all the time for people. But then the Men started kidnapping defenseless Centaurs to use as slaves. No one's really supposed to know that Centaurs have healing magic. If the Clan Council ever found out you knew..."  
  
Frodo looked a little green. "What?"  
  
"Never mind. Just don't tell anyone. Any of you." She glared at the other hobbits and the old man. The hobbits looked scared. The old man looked like he was going to laugh.  
  
Just then, Frodo noticed someone over Rhiannon's shoulder. "Bilbo!" He ran to the old hobbit that had been sitting with Sam, Merry, and Pippin. What followed was a very happy reunion. Rhiannon took this opportunity to sneak back to her room, taking some of the fruit from her table with her. She didn't like family reunions. Her family was large, loud, and embarrassing. Especially that one time when she brought her boyfriend home to meet her parents. She winced at the memory.  
  
Once in the sanctuary of her room, she took another bath, beautifying herself with the gold eye paint and red lip color she found in a drawer in the vanity. The result made her look like the rich ban-draoias she'd seen performing at festivals. She rather liked the affect. After all, she was a ban-draoia herself now, wasn't she?  
  
When she'd finished with the beautification process, she decided that she was bored. *In a place as large as this, no one should be bored. I know, I can excersize! A nice run would be very uplifting.* So saying, bound her feet with thick cloth to muffle the sounds, and snuck out of the mansion. She wasn't sure why she was sneaking all over the place, but it felt like she had to.  
  
When she reached one of the many gardens surrounding the mansion, she took off her cloth foot coverings, stretched her legs, and stamped the ground, grinning at the feel of hard earth under her hooves. She wandered through the garden, greeting the plants as she passed, until she came to the end of the garden. After that was a large open field that looked a lot like pasture land. This was confirmed when she saw the horses grazing in the far end of it.  
  
Since she didn't really feel like getting too lost in this place, she backed up a couple steps, then jumped the fence in a flying leap. There were no other animals in this pasture, so she reared up and took off at top speed, laughing at the sheer speed at which she was traveling. When she'd circled the pasture a couple times, she dropped to the ground, panting and half laughing. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be able to run free without anyone telling you to watch yourself or the younglings might develop bad habits. She closed her eyes and lay in the sun for a while, smiling.  
  
Something tickled her face. She opened her eyes to see a long horse face looking down at her. It started to lick her face when it saw that she was okay. She giggled and reached up to pet the white fur of the friendly animal.   
  
Someone called to the horse. It picked up its head and looked around at the person. Rhiannon scrambled to her feet, embarrassed to have been caught unawares. She followed the horse to its master, her hand on its neck.  
  
"Hello. I'm Rhiannon. Your horse found me."  
  
"I see that. I'm Legolas. Legolas Greenleaf." He looked at her curiously. "Where are you from?"  
  
"Aaaah. That question again. I may as well stand on the highest peak of the highest mountain and proclaim for all to hear that my name is Rhiannon Cealodhain and I'm a Centaur so that no one else bothers me with that question."  
  
The elf looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. It's just that--"  
  
"I know. You've never seen anyone like me before. Don't worry, you're not the only one to say that line either."  
  
Legolas looked relieved. It was then that Rhiannon noticed how cute he was. He wasn't a Centaur, but the face was definately more than okay. *Note to self: yum. Just put a Centaur body on him and he'd be absolutely delicious.*  
  
He changed the subject. "You seem to have a way with horses. Aetareth doesn't usually like strangers." (AN: Does anyone know what Legolas's horse's name is? I just made that one up.)  
  
Rhiannon smiled. "I belong to a horse trainer family. I've only just taken up the job, but I love it already."  
  
Legolas seemed interested. He leaned up against the fence casually and asked, "Really? Could you show me some pointers? Aetareth likes to do what he wants to do, not what I want him to do."  
  
Rhiannon laughed and beckoned him over the fence. She spent the rest of that day teaching Legolas how to show dominance over a male horse and eventually raced him. *I'm glad I found a friend that's as crazy about horses as I am,* she thought.  
  
After a race that left Rhiannon particularly breathless, a messenger elf interrupted them with some news from Lord Elrond.  
  
"There is to be a council tomorrow with the leaders of all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth." He looked at Rhiannon. "Since you are the only one of your kind present, you are also invited."  
  
When the elf had left, Rhiannon remarked to Legolas, "I've never been invited to a secret council before, much less been labeled as an ambassador of my people. This should be interesting. Who are you representing?"  
  
Legolas looked down at the ground and shrugged. "Oh, just my father."  
  
"Who's your father?"  
  
"Um, he's the King of Mirkwood."  
  
Rhiannon stared open-mouthed at him. "So, that makes you the Prince of Mirkwood?"  
  
"I guess." He looked at Rhiannon and smiled. "Race you back to the stables, Ambassador," he said mockingly.  
  
Rhiannon stared dumbly at him for a second. Then she laughed, and ran to catch up with him.  
  
Review, review, review! No, Rhiannon isn't going to fall in love with Legolas. She just thinks he's hot. Which is absolutely, positively true. No girl is not going to notice that. It's called hormones, people. Besides, she's a Centaur. Wouldn't that be hard?  
  
Council of Rivendell next chapter. Also, I'm going to be using more Irish words in this fic, so I'll tell you what they mean when they come up. Here's the one I used this chapter.  
  
Ban-draoia (ban-DROY-uh): A female sorceror or wizard. Originally "she-druid."  
  
I don't really know if the plural of that word I used is correct, but oh well. If anyone knows better, please tell me. After all, I am just an ignorant American.  
  
Again, please review!  
  
-littlehorse :) 


	8. The Seriously Screwed Up Council

Hello again. My muse has decended upon me again, and who am I to refuse her? So I'm updating. Thank you very much, Captain Obvious.  
  
I realize that Legolas was a little out of character in my last chapter, so I'm going to try to fix that. You know in the Two Towers when Legolas and Gimli are competing to see who kills the most Orcs? I was trying to draw on the playful side of him that was shown in that scene and bring it out more, but I ended up over-doing it. So, sorry Mr. Tolkein.  
  
x-silver-saffire-x: I realized my mistake right after I posted that chapter and I was too lazy to fix it, so I was kinda hoping no one would notice. Oh, well. I congratulate you on your attentiveness. So just pretend that it says "Council of Elrond." :)  
  
**********  
  
She was flying. Over hills, around castles. The landscape was breathtaking, perfect, like it had been taken out of one of the stories told by parents to their young ones. Suddenly, night came, black as death, cold as her icy heart. She opened her fiery Eye and looked at the host of Orcs amassing before her.  
  
She smiled to herself. Yes, revenge would be sweet. If only that blasted Saruman would work harder! He could have attacked long ago. But that's wizards for you. So insecure. They always had to check to see if what they were doing would benefit themselves. Of course, Saruman would have no place in the new land of darkness that she, the Dark Lord was setting up. She smiled to herself again. Soon, she would have a body, and would no longer have to depend on mere mortals to do things for her.  
  
An Orc interrupted her thoughts. "My Lord, we have received word from Isengard that the Ring is in Rivendell."  
  
If she had had a body, she would have punched the wall. Instead, she hissed at the Orc, "Then send spies! Do I have to tell you to do everything?"  
  
The Orc backed up a couple of steps, but went on with his message. "The Ringwraiths are crippled. Their mounts were drowned in the river at Rivendell chasing the Ring."  
  
"Indeed?"  
  
"But there's something else. Something strange. Something no one has ever seen before."  
  
"Tell me what it is or I'll cut your tongue out!"  
  
The Orc backed up another step. "There was a horse-girl there. I mean, she was part horse part girl. And she was able to wound one of wraith-horses."  
  
The Dark Lord hissed again. This was not good news. The horses ridden by the Ringwraiths were specially trained in Mordor for battle. If this horse-girl was able to get close enough to wound one, she was definately one to be watched.  
  
"Inform the spy you send to Rivendell to watch for this horse-girl. I want to know everything about her, including why she is here. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Yes, my Lord."  
  
"Then get out of my sight."  
  
"Yes, my Lord."  
  
Finally left in peace, the Dark Lord wallowed in his/her thoughts. "Who are you?" he/she whispered aloud. "Why are you here?"  
  
**********  
  
Rhiannon sat up from her nest of sheets, gasping. She scrambled to her feet and practically ran to the bathroom. She dumped a whole pitcher of cold water on her head, not even bothering to pour it into the basin.  
  
*Who the hell was that? And who was he talking about? And why was I him?*  
  
These thoughts whirled around in her head like a hurricane until she forced herself to cool down. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew who the Dark Lord had been talking about.  
  
*He was talking about me. Epona defend me, he was talking about me.*  
  
A loud knocking startled her. She called out with a shaky voice, "Who is it?"  
  
"Rhiannon, it's Arwen."  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry! Just a minute."  
  
Rhiannon trotted to the door and pulled it open quickly. Arwen, even though she was tall as elves usually are, looked up at Rhiannon and said, "Breakfast is in half an hour. The Council is after that."  
  
She took in Rhiannon's pale, sweaty complexion and tangled hair and added, "Would you like me to help you get ready?"  
  
Rhiannon grinned, relieved. Arwen was an awesome girl-friend. Even if she wasn't a Centaur.  
  
Arwen helped her bathe and instructed her on the finer points of grooming. Even though Rhiannon had three older sisters, make-up and sisterly advice was rare in her family. You didn't exactly need to look good to be able to train horses.  
  
When she was finished, Rhiannon gasped at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had been pretty before. After all, she was her mother's daughter, but now she was positively radiant. Arwen had shined her coat until it shone like the cloth-of-gold tunics the rich noble-Centaurs wore and her mane and tail were glossy black like a raven's feathers. Her honey-colored skin glowed until it virtually blended in with her gold fur, and her hooves had been polished. Arwen had even put some kind of gold glitter on them.  
  
She turned around and grabbed Arwen in a huge bear-hug, lifting her off the floor. Arwen laughed and Rhiannon laughed with her. For the first time in three months--since her parents had died--Rhiannon felt happy. Truly happy. It almost beat out talking to trees, but not quite.  
  
When she walked down to breakfast with Arwen, many eyes followed her. She flashed Pippin a wide, white smile when he gaped open-mouthed at her. She sat at her usual mini-table, this time accompanied by Arwen.  
  
She performed her usual scope-out of the room to see that others besides Legolas Greenleaf had arrived for the Council. There were several other little people, but other than height, they didn't look like hobbits at all. They were menacing little creatures, with huge, bushy beards that probably got in the way all the time. A few of them were staring at Rhiannon openly. She glared at them until they looked away.  
  
There were a lot more elves. Tall ones, skinny ones, blond ones, brunette ones, some with green eyes, but most with blue. She caught Legolas's eye and smiled at him.  
  
There was also another Man. He glared around at everyone that looked his way, including Rhiannon. She scowled back, then resumed eating her breakfast.  
  
She glanced at Arwen. "Who's that brown-haired Man sitting all alone?"  
  
"That's Boromir, son of the King of Gondor. Antisocial type, isn't he?"  
  
"He gives me the creeps." Rhiannon shivered.  
  
"You're not the only one."  
  
Rhiannon grinned at her.  
  
Just then, the bell signaling the end of breakfast rang, and the oddly assorted bunch filed outside, Rhiannon at the rear.  
  
There was a large semi-circle of chairs surrounding a stone slab that looked like it served as a table. Rhiannon breathed in the fresh air, and silently welcomed the plants in the gardens around the flag-stone patio.  
  
She knelt at the end of the semi-circle, next to Frodo and Gandalf. Arwen sat beside her father at the open side of the semi-circle.  
  
Then Elrond began. "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You are summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands on the brink of destruction. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."  
  
Elrond beckoned to Frodo and said, "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."  
  
Suddenly, everyone stopped staring at Rhiannon and instead, stared at Frodo. Hesitantly, he walked to the stone pillar in the middle of the semi-circle, and took out a fine gold chain on which was hung a small, golden ring. Rhiannon's eyes watered when she looked at it, and it eventually turned into a persistant burning. She lowered her eyes and suddenly became very facinated with the pattern of the flagstones that covered the patio.  
  
Frodo practically ran to his seat beside Rhiannon. He seemed to be uncomfortable with the Ring also. After a deep silence, whispering and babbling filled Rhiannon's ears as the members of the Council discussed this strange new thing in front of them.  
  
Rhiannon, however, was confused. It was a ring, big deal. But it was also a ring that hurt to look at. She decided to ask about it. "Um, what exactly is that thing?"  
  
Everyone looked at her as if she had been drinking stupid tea. Then Boromir, the one who had been glaring at everyone at breakfast, spoke. "You don't know what that is?" He spoke slowly, as if she was retarded, or a two year old.  
  
Rhiannon snorted indignantly. "No, I don't. Please enlighten me."  
  
Elrond took over. "That is the One Ring, the Ring of Power, the Ring of Sauron. It was forged by Sauron himself when..." Elrond then proceeded to tell the entire story in great detail, as if he had been there himself.  
  
*Which he might have been. Aren't these Elves immortal, or something?*  
  
Rhiannon listened rapturously. It sounded like one of the tales of Balor, Lord of the Fomori, told to scare children and give adults a good laugh. But none of the adults had ever seen proof of those storys's existence, like the Ring on it's stone pedestal.  
  
Elrond finished his recount. Rhiannon leaned back, thinking. Then Boromir spoke again, "Who are you, anyway, that you don't know a such a common tale?"  
  
"Who wants to know?" she shot back. "I don't recall you ever introducing yourself."  
  
Gandalf broke in before a verbal fight could ensue. "Maybe we should do some introductions, to make people more comfortable." He shot an amused glance in Rhiannon's direction.  
  
Elrond said slowly, "Yes, I suppose we could do that." He looked to the elf on the other end of the semi-circle and added, "Why don't we start with you and go around?"  
  
The elf nodded and stood. He gave his name and where he was from, then sat down and looked at the elf beside him, who happened to be Legolas. Legolas stood and gave his name and where he was from also and then sat down. This continued until Rhiannon had memorized most of the Council. Finally, it was her turn. Everyone looked at her, eyes curious.  
  
She stood and nervously flattened her black sleeveless tunic. It was time for the formal introduction, only used by ambassadors and traders to outsiders. She hadn't even used it for Elrond at their first meeting because it was so long.  
  
She put her fist over her heart and performed the Clan greeting. She then straightened and lifted her head proudly, relaxing a little at doing something familiar.  
  
"My name is Rhiannon of Clan Cealodhain, daughter to Comhghan of Clan Cealodhain and Aoibheann of Clan Dubhghall, sister to Lugh of Clan Cealodhain, and great-granddaughter to Rhiannon, Priestess of Epona and ban-draoia of the weather. I am in training to become a Master of Horses, and am a Healer and a ban-draoia of the elements. And before you ask," she added, glaring at Boromir, "I am a Centaur of Northern Eire."  
  
She knelt again, glancing around at the confused faces still staring at her and wondering if she should have put that part about being a ban-draoia of the elements.  
  
*Well, I am one now, so I guess I better get used to it,* she argued to herself.  
  
She caught Legolas' eye. He seemed amused; her name had been longer than his, and he was a prince.  
  
Elrond spoke up. "Excuse me, but I don't understand the meaning of "ban-draoia of the elements.""  
  
Rhiannon nodded. "A ban-draioa is a sorceress or female mage. Being a ban-draoia of the elements means that I have a kind of connection with the living things around me. Even the not-so-alive things, like the wind, but not as much."  
  
"Ah, that clears things up."  
  
Boromir butted in once more. "Can we get back on subject? I want to be done with this while I'm still young."  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
Elrond continued. "The obvious thing to be done is to destroy this Ring. But--"  
  
And yet again, Boromir interrupted rudely. "It is a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of my people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!"  
  
The silent Man that had accompanied the hobbits then stood up and argued, "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."  
  
"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?"  
  
This time Legolas stood up. He looked angry, which surprised Rhiannon, because he had been so care-free to her. "He is no mere Ranger. This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him you allegiance."  
  
Boromir looked stunned for a minute, then he gathered his wits and sneered, "*This* is Isildur's heir?"  
  
"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas shot back.  
  
Aragorn looked uncomfortable. He said something in a strange language and Legolas sat down, glaring at Boromir.  
  
"Gondor has no king, Gondor needs no king," Boromir mumbled, still trying to save face.  
  
Gandalf broke in. "Aragorn is right. We cannot control it."  
  
"We have but one choice. The Ring must be destroyed," Elrond added.  
  
The Dwarf, Gimli, picked up his axe and roared, "Then what are we waiting for?" He brought his axe down hard on the Ring and Rhiannon winced as sparks flew and the axe shattered. The Ring was unscratched.  
  
Elrond looked at the fallen Dwarf and said, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. It was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from which it came. One of you must do this."  
  
Boromir laughed, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. It is folly. Not with ten thousand men could you do this."  
  
At the mention of the great Eye, Rhiannon was reminded of the strange dream she had had that night. *Oh gods. That must have been Sauron. But why was I him?*  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by an outburst from Legolas. "Have you heard nothing that Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"  
  
Gimli stood up angrily. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?"  
  
"And what if we fail? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir asked furiously.  
  
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli's outburst brought everyone to their feet except Elrond, Gandalf, Frodo, and Rhiannon.  
  
Rhiannon grimaced at the noise and leaned over to Frodo, touching his shoulder to get his attention. He looked at her with frightened but steady eyes that said that he knew what he had to do. "I think it's about time you said something," Rhiannon said, smiling encouragingly.  
  
Frodo nodded shortly and stood up, shouting to be heard above the uproar. "I will take it!"  
  
When this did nothing, Rhiannon stood up, drawing herself to her full height, which was considerable, and shouted, "WILL EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP?!"   
  
The Council members looked at her, startled. "Considering that all you people have done is argue, I think you should listen to someone other than you own voices!" Rhiannon shook her head, nearly at the end of her patience. "Frodo has something to say."  
  
She gently pulled him forward so that everyone could see him.  
  
"I will take the Ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way."  
  
Everyone stared at him, even more astonished at this than they had been at Rhiannon's furious rant.  
  
Then Gandalf broke the silence. "I will help you bear this burden for as long as it is yours to bear."  
  
Aragorn walked over to stand by Frodo. "If by my life or my death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."  
  
"And my bow," said Legolas.  
  
"And my axe," added Gimli.  
  
Boromir was hesitant, but eventually he said, "You carry the fate of us all, little one. But if this is truly the will of the Council, Gondor will see it done."  
  
A shout from behind them made Rhiannon turn around. Sam ran over to Frodo shouting, "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"  
  
Elrond said amusedly, "Indeed, it is hardly possible to separate the two of you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not. Very well."  
  
Rhiannon covered her smile with her hand. She thought his intrusion very funny, but was also impressed by his loyalty to Frodo.  
  
Two more shouts brought Rhiannon's head around once more. This time Merry and Pippin came running in, Merry shouting, "We're going too! You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to keep us away."  
  
"Anyway," added Pippin cleverly, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing."  
  
"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry told him.  
  
Rhiannon almost burst out laughing.  
  
Elrond looked to Rhiannon. "I'm afraid we can do nothing for you here. Why don't you go with Frodo as far as Lothl—rien. The Lady Galadriel, who resides there, might be able to help you."  
  
Rhiannon considered it. She looked down at Frodo, and could help but feel a little impressed that this little person had taken on the fate of his world knowingly. She spoke to him, "I have seen many things, but never did I think that I would ever see the kind of loyalty your friends show you. I envy you. And I will protect you also. They say that magic is never done without reason, and I think this might be that reason. Yes, I'll go with you, and I'll seek the council of this Lady Galadriel. I don't know what I'll do after that, but I think I'll plan as we go along." Stooping slightly, she held out her hand to him and he shook it. "May your road rise to meet you and the wind blow at your back."  
  
He smiled. "Thank you."  
  
She smiled back, then said briskly, "Now when can we eat? I'm absolutely starving!"  
  
***  
  
Now that was a long chapter. I think the dream thingy at the beginning was kinda wierd, but I need it to continue my story. I've never been good at describing dreams. All you need for proof of that is to look at chapter two in this story. That dream sucked even more than this one. Oh, well. No one's perfect.  
  
Anyway, I have to give you some pronunciations so you don't make your head explode trying to figure out how to say these names. You know what, I just realized this, but I never told you how to pronounce Lugh's name. No, it's not Lug.  
  
Lugh: loo  
  
Comhghan: COM-gan (the o is long)  
  
Aoibheann: EE-van  
  
Dubhghall: DUB-gull (the u is long)  
  
Well, I hope that helps. If I ever forget anything again and you don't know how to pronounce it, just tell me. I'm kinda absent-minded. If you haven't noticed. Heh.  
  
Oh, and I know I totally copied the script from the movie, but I had to write this really fast and I didn't feel like making up new lines.  
  
Please review, as always.  
  
Gotta go. Bye!  
  
-littlehorse :) 


	9. Goodbye to You

I GOT MY FIRST FLAME!!!!!! Yay! Thank you so much to my lovely flamer. I feel so grown-up. *sniff*  
  
But...I'm going to make a new rule. If you do insist on flaming me, please at least make sure that you get your facts straight.  
  
Raistlin Majere: (cool s/n, btw) I think you have some very good points, and I'm going to address them, as some other reviewers might have the same inquiries. In the rough drafts of the first few chapters, Rhiannon talked the way someone would in the Dark Ages. This made her seem extremely stiff and emotionless, so I decided to drop the elegance.  
  
In the original Greek myths, Centaurs were extremely vulgar and barbaric. They carried off other men's wives and beat their children. The only Centaur who was remotely "wise and kind" was Chiron, who, because of his knowledge of herbs and the stars, became the teacher of Asclepius, mortal son of the great god Apollo. But Chiron wasn't even related to the other Centaurs at all. He was the son of Cronus the Titan and was immortal. So, yes, Centaurs would use profanity. Obviously, such disgusting characters would be undesirable, so I improved upon what the Greeks wrote.  
  
I have read the books. I read them when I was in fourth grade. You would have found out not only that, but why I employed the use of "that wench Arwen" instead of Glorfindel if you had read the author's note at the beginning of chapter six. I also needed the friendship between Rhiannon and Arwen.  
  
I'm not going to debate the color of Elrond's hair with you. To me it looked brown, to you it looked black. But, honestly, who cares?  
  
Katronette: About Rhiannon's name: interesting. I didn't know that. Thanks! Could the dark goddess you're talking about possibly be/be related to Epona? I know Rhiannon was sometimes associated with her and the description you used sounds familiar, so I think that might be where I got confused.  
  
About the way she talks: As I said to Raistlin Majere, I tried the elegant archaic thing, but it didn't work for the kind of character I'm trying to create. But I do think I over-did it a bit. I'll work on that.  
  
Dara Maeko: Yes, the dream will be explained later. But that's okay, I'm blond too. Just not Dutch... :)  
  
Gaeldrisan: (love the s/n) I have no idea if they can out-drink a dwarf, but they can get drunk. It was because of this that they totally wrecked the wedding of Pirithous and a Lapith princess in one of the Greek stories. I think they even carried off the bride. *snickers*  
  
The inspiration for a Centaur story came out of nowhere. I'm fascinated with the ancient Greeks and I also love horses, so Centaurs seemed to be pretty cool characters to write about, considering the reputation they now have. I think reading about Centaurs in the Chronicles of Narnia pretty much made me decide to write it down. (my two favorite series at the time were LOTR and Chronicles of Narnia)  
  
Thank you to all of my other reviewers. If you haven't noticed, if you ask me a question, I do answer you, so feel free to ask anything. Here's my chapter.  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon lay awake for a long time that night after the Council. The emotions that she had been holding back for so long had finally caught up with her, and tears streamed shamelessly down her cheeks as she thought of her former life as an ordinary Centauress.  
  
She wondered what Lugh was doing right then. She wondered if he missed her as she did him and if he was doing the same thing she was.  
  
She missed her friend, Maire, and how they used to laugh and giggle over handsome young Centaur males.  
  
She missed the crotchety old Mrs. Colhoran and her tiny tent that smelled like rosemary and lavender.  
  
And most of all, she missed her parents. She thought that she had gotten over them a month ago, but she found herself crying over them more now than she had at their funeral pyres. She wished that her mother was there to comfort her and tell her how wonderful she was and that it would be alright. She wanted to hear her father's dry sarcasm and his deep belly laugh.  
  
She was afraid. Never in her short five years of life had she thought that she would be as truly and profoundly alone as she was now. She cried even harder at that thought, feeling herself fall into a black, bottomless pit of self-pity that she thought she would never climb out of.  
  
A cool wind caressed her tear-stained face and stirred her hair. She gasped and sat up, no longer crying, and remembered the words of the wind. *"But we will never leave you. You have The Gift, and The Gift will never leave you either."*  
  
*I'm not alone,* Rhiannon thought. *In fact, I'm practically surrounded.* She got up and went to one of the many mirrors in her bedroom, looking disdainfully at the tear-tracks and rubbing impatiently at them.  
  
*I've got to stop this. I've got to stay strong. I learned long ago that crying never got me anywhere, and here I am, sobbing like an idiot.* She sighed and plopped back down on her nest of sheets on the floor. Soon, she fell into a deep sleep.  
  
***  
  
She was flying again. *Okay, can we stop with the flying?* Rhiannon snapped. Then, to her amazement, she was on the ground. She hadn't flown down to the ground, she just appeared there.  
  
*Whoa.*  
  
She looked around her at the blackened, treeless plain until her eyes fell upon the huge tower in the middle of it.  
  
*Orthanc,* she thought, surprising herself. She'd never even heard the name before.  
  
She looked sadly at the charred ground and saw the ghosts of trees waving in an unearthly breeze. Physical pain shook her as she shuddered under the blows of many axes, and felt the anguish of long lost green lives.  
  
She set her jaw and looked at the great tower, vowing to seek revenge on whoever had done this.  
  
*Take me to this murderer,* she demanded of her dream.  
  
Blurred shapes flew past her and she appeared in a large, circular room, occupied in the center by a half-pillar covered in a velvet cloth. There was something under it. She moved forward curiously, reaching out a hand to pull off the cloth.  
  
Footsteps. She whirled around, prepared to flee. One of the several doors slammed open and in stalked a tall Man in white robes. He thrust the staff he was carrying towards a small figure trailing behind him and yanked off the velvet cloth.  
  
He didn't seem to notice Rhiannon, so she inched closer, curious as to what was beneath the cloth.  
  
It was a perfectly round crystal ball, like the ones Rhiannon had seen Seers use. The Man waved a hand over the crystal and muttered something under his breath.  
  
A pinprick of red light appeared at the center of the ball and steadily spread outward until a fuzzy image came slowly into focus.  
  
Rhiannon inched even closer, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her breathing fast. She saw that the red light was actually a kind of fiery eye and she was immediately reminded of her strange dream.  
  
*That's Sauron,* she thought. *Or, his Eye, at least. What's this Man doing talking to the Dark Lord?*  
  
She was about to find out.  
  
A deep, warped voice issued from the crystal. "Is my army finished?"  
  
"Nearly, my Lord," replied the Man. "The final plans are in place."  
  
A rumbling noise that Rhiannon supposed was a chuckle echoed around the circular room. "Good. And of the Ring?"  
  
Here, the Man looked a little nervous. "Ah, my ah, spies have reported to me that, ah--"  
  
A low growl from the crystal made the Man talk faster. "that they can't penetrate Rivendell's defenses," he finished in a rush.  
  
The growl increased in volume. "And why not?" Even the question sounded like a threat.  
  
"Elrond's and Gandalf's combined magic are too strong for me. But we do have some news," he added hopefully.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"A Fellowship has been assembled and they are going to take action."  
  
"And you can stop them?"  
  
The Man looked uncertain, but answered, "Yes, My Lord. You needn't worry about them."  
  
Something shook Rhiannon's shoulder. She looked around, but the world turned fuzzy and unsteady. The conversation between the Man and the Dark Lord became garbled and she fought to gather to her the now evanescent unreality of her dream.  
  
"Will you cut it out?" she shouted out loud, but it was too late. She jolted into the waking world with such a force that it made her dizzy. A confused hobbit gazed down at her fearfully.  
  
"Oh, sorry, Sam."  
  
He smiled shakily. "That's alright. I wasn't too keen on gettin' out of bed m'self."  
  
She groaned as she rose up on shaky legs and shook her head to clear it. "Do I need to be up for any specific reason?"  
  
Sam looked startled. "We're going today. Didn't you know?"  
  
Rhiannon gasped, suddenly a lot more awake. "I forgot! I'll be ready in twenty minutes," she promised Sam. He nodded and went out of the room, leaving her by herself.  
  
She took a deep breath and looked around her room, then headed to the bathroom. She took the jar of rose petals from the shelf and ceremoniously sprinkled them on the surface of the bubbling water in her hotspring/bathtub, thinking, *Since I'm probably not going to have a proper bath in a long time, this is the best occasion I can think of.*  
  
When she was as clean as she could get herself, she ran a brush through her long hair and wove it into a single long braid that hung down her back. The hairs that framed her face refused stay in the braid, so she swiftly braided them into small individual braids.  
  
Rhiannon looked at her reflection in the mirror with approval. She had once seen a barbarian Clan of Centaurs pass through her Clan's lands under treaty. In that Clan, even the females fought. She remembered seeing one particular Centauress. She had had dark hair, like Rhiannon's, that she kept woven into hundreds of tiny braids that hung around her face and swished along her back. Her tail had been woven into one long braid also. Rhiannon thought she looked much like that warrioress. She smiled grimly at her reflection and turned away to pick fresh tunics.  
  
Since she had brought nothing into this strange world but her bow and her waist pouch, she didn't have much to pack. She selected several simple tunics, some light-colored for hot temperatures, some dark-colored for cold temperatures. Digging further into the wardrobe, she found a long, hooded cloak. She swirled it around her shoulders and found that it was long enough to cover her horse-half, too.  
  
When she was finished, Rhiannon looked around her room and found herself unwilling to leave. Even though this wasn't her true home, she had found her magic here. It was these trees just outside the window that had conversed with her on her first day here. She went out on the balcony to say goodbye. The trees were sad at her leaving, but she promised them that, someday, somehow, she would come back.  
  
She picked up her pack and shook back the small braids swinging around her face, then marched out of the room, trying to keep a straight face.  
  
She wandered down to one of the many gardens, saying goodbye to each of the plants, and asking for favors from some of them. The waist pouch she always carried with her already contained some dried herbs, but fresher ones were always better.  
  
When she had harvested enough, she first trotted, then cantered swiftly to the gates of Rivendell, where everyone was supposed to meet. The rest of the Fellowship was already gathered there, listening to last-minute instructions from Elrond. When he heard the hoof-beats, Elrond turned to Rhiannon.  
  
"I would like to thank you once more for all that you have done for us. Words are not enough to express the gratitude we all feel." He beckoned to an Elf standing behind him. The Elf stepped forward, holding something long and thin wrapped in a cloth. Elrond took it from the other Elf and turned back to Rhiannon, offering her the bundle.  
  
She reached out hesitantly and when her fingers met the smooth, hard surface of the thing Elrond was giving her, she knew exactly what it was.  
  
The cloth fell away, revealing a long, shining sword of the lightest metal Rhiannon had ever seen. The hilt was set with moonstone and jade, for protection; black onyx, for self-control and wise decisions; and aquamarine, for courage and protection. Rhiannon touched the stones reverently. It seemed that all her lessons with the local hedgewitch had finally paid off.  
  
She looked back at Elrond, speechless, but the look in his eyes said that he understood. She buckled the sword's sheath around her waist and put her waist pouch on the belt instead. Then she turned to stand among the Fellowship.  
  
The goodbyes were tense and filled with emotion. Finally, the company turned away, and Rhiannon walked out of the gates of Rivendell, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
***  
  
Well, how do you like? Rhiannon was a lot more emotional in that one. Oh well. I put a new name in here for you, so here's how you pronounce it.  
  
Maire: MOY-ra  
  
Usually, the a has an accent over it, but accents don't work on ff.net, so I can't do that.  
  
Please review! Bye!  
  
-littlehorse :) 


	10. Caradhras

I'm back. Obviously. I got a couple of new reviews, so I'll answer those.  
  
Dara Maeko: She'll tell Gandalf later. At the moment, she doesn't know that her dreams are anything more than dreams.  
  
x-silver-saffire-x: The accents appeared in your review. I don't know why they don't in stories. I've seen some where the authors are able to do accents, but I don't know how they do it. Maybe you need a specific word processing program.  
  
Raistlin Majere: Yeah, I can see your confusion. A lot of fantasy writers have changed the natures of Centaurs to fit their stories. I'm one of them. In my fic, Rhiannon is a vegetarian, but in the Greek stories, Centaurs ate raw meat. I thought that was disgusting, so I changed it. Historic license is a beautiful thing. The reason Rhiannon uses slang is because I was trying to create a character that you could easily identify with. I'm going to cut back on the swearing, though. It sounds unintelligent when every other word out of someone's mouth is a swear. It's like, Have you no vocabulary? Ya know?  
  
Andray: Yeah, that's Irish for you. It's never pronounced like it looks. Maire is actually the original version of Moira, which is a common name today.  
  
*  
  
I know in the book they stay at Rivendell for two months, but that would be way too long for this fic, so it's the next day. Yeah, that seems a little short for planning, but it works better.  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon trudged. Onward and upward. Endlessly. For weeks. And the only thing worth looking at were the wildlife in the area because they were the only thing that changed. The trees were the same. The grass was the same. Sure, sometimes they made small talk with Rhiannon, but she found it extremely hard not to respond out loud, so she didn't talk much.   
  
*Oh, look, there's a bird. And another one! And another one! What a nice change of scenery.*  
  
When the hobbits had started to tire and trip over their own feet, Rhiannon had offered to take some of their bags. So now she was a common pack horse. *If the people at home could see me now... It's a good thing they can't.*  
  
She sighed. The terrain was becoming increasingly rocky, not good for Centaur hooves. She often walked alongside Bill, the pony, to ensure that he got no stones in his feet.  
  
Finally, after hours of walking, Aragorn called for a rest. Rhiannon took this opportunity to write a letter to Lugh. She hadn't the slightest idea of how he would ever get it, but she felt that she needed to write down what was happening to her in case she began to think that she was going insane.  
  
Dear Lugh,  
  
You should see this guy, his name's Aragorn. I swear, he could walk all night if it wasn't for the hobbits. Oh, did I tell you what hobbits are? I don't think so. They're like Men, but really short. About half a Man's height, I think. And they don't wear shoes. I thought all Men wore shoes, but apparently not.  
  
I keep having these strange dreams. They're all about this Dark Lord that the people here keep talking about. Sauron, I think his name was. I don't know what to make of them. It's almost...I don't know, prophetic? Maybe it means something will happen. Maybe I should tell someone. Like Gandalf. Did I tell you about him? He's a Man also, but there's something else about him that I can't figure out. Something...ancient...but not. That doesn't make any sense. It's more like wisdom or knowledge. Like he has a lot of it. More than usual. I don't know. I'll figure him out sometime.  
  
Anyway, I hope you're doing well. I don't know how you're ever going to read this, but when I get back, maybe I'll show it to you. Maybe I won't. I don't even know if I will get back. I miss--  
  
A shout startled Rhiannon. She jumped, and smeared the ink on her last word. Merry, Pippin, and Boromir were sword fighting. At least, Boromir was. The two hobbits were jumping backwards and forwards, stabbing wildly with their blades. Boromir was trying to teach them to block, but they didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept.  
  
Suddenly, Pippin's sword went flying, his sword arm wrung, and the furious hobbit immediately tackled Boromir. She never had like Boromir, and she could tell that he didn't like her, but she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him as he rolled around on the ground with two hobbits pounding him mercilessly.  
  
"What's that?" Sam's inquiry brought Rhiannon out of her helpless giggles and she followed his gaze to a dark cloud-like mass in the sky.  
  
"It's nothing, just a wisp of cloud," reassured Gimli.  
  
*Whatever it is, it doesn't feel right, somehow.*  
  
"It's moving fast, against the wind." Boromir's voice was tinged with urgency.  
  
"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas sprung to his feet, gathering his pack and cloak. "Hide!"  
  
The cloud loomed closer, and as it gained shape, Rhiannon saw that it was actually a huge flock of black birds like crows. She crouched under the scrubby mountain bushes that grew there, gently but urgently asking the bush to hide her length. The plant obliged and twined around her like a vine. Rhiannon hoped she would be able to get out of it when the birds had passed.  
  
When the screeching and cawing of the enormous birds had finally faded into the distance, Rhiannon gently touched the bush and persuaded it to let her go. She saw Merry staring at her with wide eyes and she smiled reassuringly at him, pressing her finger to her lips conspiratorially. He nodded hastily, then looked away, pretending not to have seen anything. Rhiannon chuckled and got to her feet with some difficulty. The bush was still hesitant to let her go.  
  
When everyone had emerged from their hiding places, Gandalf said, "Spies for Saruman. The passage south is being watched. We will have to go over the pass of Caradhras."  
  
Rhiannon looked at the great mountain, it's peak white with an ominous snow, and shivered. Somehow, Caradhras didn't seem anymore comforting than the Crebain had been.  
  
***  
  
*Great. More trudging. My legs are freezing!!!!*  
  
Rhiannon shivered in her cloak and tried to ignore the biting cold that was steadily seeping into her bones. She looked pityingly at Frodo, who was wearing breeches that ended at his knees, and, of course, no shoes.  
  
*At least I have fur.*  
  
Suddenly, Frodo's foot slid, and he rolled a good way down the company's latest hill. Rhiannon stopped, looking after him concernedly, but relaxed when she saw that Aragorn had caught him and was now helping him up.  
  
A panicked expression passed over Frodo's face as he felt frantically around his neck for something. Then he stopped as Boromir stooped to pick something up off the snow. Rhiannon squinted at it until the familiar pain pierced the back of her eyes and the world blurred like heat waves. Dangling in Boromir's hand was the One Ring.  
  
Aragorn tensed and whispered beseechingly, "Boromir."  
  
But Boromir was lost in a trance as he gazed at the Ring and he said to no one in particular, "It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. Such a little thing."  
  
Rhiannon could take it no longer. The headache was worsening the longer the Ring was in plain sight, and a warped and twisted voice was sounding in her head, whispering in a strange language that sent chills up and down her spine.  
  
She trotted down the hill and snatched the Ring from Boromir's hand, then quickly put it in Frodo's hand, closing his fingers over the cold-hot metal.  
  
She hissed in pain and knelt in the snow, burying her hand in it's icy coolness. When it was numb, she took it out and examined the angry red circle-shaped burn in the center of her palm where she had held the Ring.  
  
"Godsdamn this Ring."  
  
She heard Aragorn gasp and she smiled shakily at Frodo. "Well, I don't think you need to worry about me. Put away, quick. It hurts to look at."  
  
Frodo smiled back at her, relieved, and put the chain back around his neck.  
  
Rhiannon got to her feet, cradling her hand to her chest and biting her lip against the pain. Aragorn slipped her something from his waistpouch, whispering, "This is athelas. Put it on your tongue and suck on it a while. It will help with the pain."  
  
Rhiannon smiled her thanks to him and put the herb in her mouth. Within a few minutes, the pain had ebbed, and Rhiannon was able to cut a length of bandage from the roll in her waistpouch. She wound it around her hand tightly, tucking the end out of sight.  
  
She glanced up at Boromir, who was watching her with a strange expression on his face. He looked trapped between hate and admiration. Rhiannon's heart softened a moment and she thought, *This is probably hard for him, too. The Ring calls to us all. I can see it especially in Gandalf's eyes. I'm just lucky that it causes me pain. At least I want nothing to do with it.*  
  
***  
  
*I knew it. I just knew it. I should have said something. Mathair always told me to trust my instincts, but, of course, in the most dire of situations, I forget. Why, oh why, me?*  
  
The snow was up to her belly, and the black wool cloak had soon become a dirty gray as snow drove into it from all directions. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Boromir were pushing the snow aside to make way for the hobbits, the pony, and Rhiannon. Legolas skipped along on top of the snow as if it was something people did every day. Rhiannon glared enviously at him.  
  
"Oh, hang it all! Excuse me," she added politely to Sam, who was leading Bill ahead of her.  
  
She pushed ahead and shoved the three Men out of the way, muttering curses in three different languages. Legolas looked down at her, shocked.  
  
"You humans! Always forgetting that you don't need to use brute force all the time."  
  
She knelt and pressed her hands down into the snow, searching for the rocky ground. When she found it, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, preparing to do her first real magic since she had discovered she was a ban-draoia.  
  
She slowed her breathing, stilled her heart, and listened for the steady beat of thousands of years that was the world's heart. Deep in the core of earth, beneath the mountain, beneath the mines, she found it in its molten sea. She raced along the river of light and felt the heat pressing down on her. She grinned. Heat. Exactly what she needed.  
  
*Just a little, though. I don't want so much that I accidently melt the rock, too,* she reminded her magic. It danced gleefully around her, glad to finally be used after so much waiting.  
  
Her hands were wet. Rhiannon opened her eyes and looked down. She and the entire Fellowship were standing ankle deep in water that was swiftly flowing over the sides of the mountain, until the only thing they were standing on was an inch of mud. Rhiannon let the light-heat slide from her hands back into the earth with a sigh. Now she would have to endure chapped hands. An icy wind blew suddenly around her as more snow started to dust her rapidly freezing path.  
  
She stood, eyeing the gaping Fellowship warily. Only Gandalf was smiling. Then she realized what she couldn't see before.  
  
"You have magic, too." It wasn't a question.  
  
Gandalf smiled wider, the skin around his eyes crinkling in well-used laugh lines.  
  
"I am of the Maiar, a Wizard. You are a mage, a sorceress, a she-druid, or, as you say, ban-draoia."  
  
Rhiannon sighed, relieved. "I'm not the only one, then!" To herself, she said, *And I can tell him of my dreams. He will not believe they are of no consequence.*  
  
"No, you are not the only one. I--"  
  
Gandalf was cut off by a sudden rush of air and a pelting of snow. Something rumbled below, and a boulder broke off the mountain, crashing out of sight. A chanting filled Rhiannon's ears.  
  
"There is a fell voice on the air!" Legolas shouted above the roar of the snowstorm that had suddenly kicked up in force.  
  
"Saruman!" Gandalf exclaimed.  
  
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" yelled Aragorn. "We must turn back!"  
  
"No!" answered Gandalf. He turned to face the onslaught and started chanting against Saruman.  
  
Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck just above their heads, and snow and rock crashed down on top of the Fellowship.  
  
***  
  
Not much of a cliffhanger, seeing as everyone knows what happens next, but oh well. I would include the rest of this scene, but I have to go to bed now, and this is the best place I could find to conclude it.  
  
Sorry this took so long to get out, but I am becoming increasingly busy, and I don't have much spare time to write. The spare time I do have is from 10:00 P.M. to 7:00 A.M. and is advised to be spent sleeping.  
  
I have a new word for you.  
  
Mathair: MA-her; means mother  
  
There should be an accent over the first a, but, again, ff.net doesn't allow accents, God knows why.  
  
I gotta go now. My mom's yelling at me to go to bed. Bye.  
  
-littlehorse :) 


	11. Hall of the Dead

Um. I'm sorry? Yeah. Haven't been here in a while. So... how's it goin'? *gulps audibly as members of the audience brandish over-ripe tomatoes and sharp, pointy things* Heh. I'll just move right along with the story. Yeah.  
  
STOP! ...in the name of love... sorry, sorry. I know I'm strange. You don't have to tell me. Actually, I just wanted to say that I forgot a disclaimer. Like, a lot of disclaimers. So I'll do that right now.  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, I own LOTR. I just let Tolkein have the credit for it because I'm nice that way. Even though he died about thirty years before I was born. Yeah.  
  
Responses to reviewers:  
  
Danfred: LOL. Lugh is Rhiannon's brother. Thanks for your concern about my grandfather. That's very nice of you.  
  
Katronette: Thanks for your info. I'll be sure to e-mail you when I can. Well, when my e-mail gets back up and running, anyway. Maire means Mary? Oops. *laughs* That's funny. Yeah, the missionaries got trampled. But Maire's parents liked the name, so they kept it. Actually, I just made that up. I'm too lazy to find another name and then edit my chapter, so I'm not gonna. :)  
  
On with the story...  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon exploded from the snow covering her, rearing and digging with hands and forehooves, unburying herself from the icy wetness.  
  
*So much for my first spell.*  
  
She shook herself off as Boromir and Aragorn frantically searched for the hobbits. She joined them and helped to pull Frodo and Sam out of the snow, then put her cloak around each of them as they shivered in the cold. Nearby, Boromir, Aragorn, Gimli, and Gandalf argued over what should be done next.  
  
"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir shouted above the howling wind. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the West road to my city."  
  
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard," Aragorn countered.  
  
"We cannot pass over the mountain," Gimli interjected. "Let us go under it. Let us go through to the mines of Moria."  
  
A chill brought on by more than the cold air creeped down Rhiannon's spine at the name "Moria." She studied the concerned look on Gandalf's face, wondering what could be so terrible that even the Wizard feared it.  
  
He spoke. "Let the Ringbearer decide."  
  
Rhiannon thought that was bit unfair. Frodo had never even been outside the Shire. How would he know which way to go?  
  
She squeezed Frodo's arm reassuringly as he mulled over the weight of the decision. Finally, he looked up into Gandalf's eyes.  
  
"We will go through the mines."  
  
Gandalf nodded slowly and answered, "So be it."  
  
*Epona, protect us from whatever evil awaits us in the mines,* Rhiannon prayed silently.  
  
***  
  
By the time the Fellowship reached the cliff that Gimli called the walls of Moria, day had turned into night and a full Moon had arisen above the trees. As it did, Gandalf approached a seemingly plain stretch of rock on the cliff's face and touched it with his staff. Slowly, thin lines like liquid starfire traced themselves on the rock to reveal an inscription of ancient letters and symbols foreign to Rhiannon.  
  
"Ithildin," murmured Gandalf. "It mirrors only starlight and moonlight. It reads, 'The door of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"  
  
"What do you suppose that means?" asked Merry.  
  
Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "It means that you need a password to get in."  
  
"Quite right, Rhiannon," said Gandalf.  
  
"Call me Rhea."  
  
"Whatever you please." Gandalf turned to the door and raised his arms, incantating in a strange language, "Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen!"  
  
Rhiannon held her breath expectantly.  
  
And nothing happened.  
  
She expelled the air in her lungs with a sigh of disappointment and turned away to take off her pack and busy herself making medicinal concoctions with her herbs. *Just in case,* she told herself.  
  
***  
  
Many hours later, Gandalf still had not managed to open the door and Rhiannon had used up most of her herbs. She didn't want to use them all in case she needed them for another purpose, and now had nothing to do. She contemplated joining Merry and Pippin in throwing stones into the lake, but decided that it was too eerie to risk going near. Her resolve was hardened when Aragorn stopped them with the warning not to disturb the water.  
  
Aragorn had released Bill, much to Sam's chagrin, so Rhiannon could not busy herself worrying over the pony. She had found his solemn companionship comforting, and, though he was just an animal, even animals could make conversation.  
  
*I'll get the hobbits to loosen up sooner or later. Then I'll have someone to talk to besides Legolas.*  
  
But even Legolas was not talking now. Maybe it was just the ominous ambiance, but Rhiannon had a feeling that it was the fact that they were going into a cave. From previous conversations with the Wood Elf, Rhiannon had gathered that Elves usually avoided dark places that saw no sun. She could see why.  
  
Rhiannon looked over at Gandalf as he finally gave up in despair. He sat down by Frodo with a sigh, muttering under his breath to himself. She had a feeling his words were not polite at all.  
  
Frodo sat silently, staring at the door in perplexity, until his face broke into a smile of comprehension.  
  
"It's a riddle..." he said quietly. Then, growing more confidant, he said to Gandalf, "Speak, friend, and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?" His words became more excited as he spoke.  
  
"Oh...mellon," Gandalf replied off-hand.  
  
A great rumbling shook the ground and a crack appeared in the door. It swung open, the blackness inside more dark than the night outside. Rhiannon rose tentatively as the rest of the Fellowship filed inside, taking care to step quietly.  
  
Crack! Rhiannon jumped as she made her first step in the mines. Everyone turned to look at her. She looked down at her hard hooves.  
  
"Uh...I really need to take care of that."  
  
Swiftly, she bent down, taking rags out of her pack and binding all four of her feet with them. When she had finished, she took an experimental step and sighed when she stepped nearly as silently as Legolas.  
  
*Now I look really stupid,* she thought, looking down at her raggedy feet and snorting.  
  
Finally, Gimli broke the silence as he bragged to Legolas.  
  
"So, master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves; roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone--"  
  
"Eeeew," Rhiannon interrupted, wrinkling her nose.  
  
Gimli glared at her and went on. "This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin...and they call it a mine...a mine!" He trailed off, laughing.  
  
Rhiannon rolled her eyes and, ignoring him, turned away to watch Gandalf as he whispered something and blew on the crystal lodged in his staff. She leaned closer as the crystal lit up with a steady glow and the contents of the dark cavern were revealed to them.  
  
Rhiannon gasped and stepped back, eyeing the rotted corpses and old skeletons that littered the hall in which the Fellowship was standing. The hairs on her back stood up and she made the sign against evil with her fingers, putting her thumbs and firstfingers together in two interlocking circles.  
  
Boromir voiced the obvious in a voice filled with horror. "This is no mine...it's a tomb."  
  
Gimli moaned as the sight before him finally registered in his brain and Legolas pulled an arrow out of a skeleton, examining it's tip. "Goblins!" he announced.  
  
Rhiannon had no idea what goblins were, but she was sure they weren't anything good. She drew her bejeweled sword and backed away with the rest of the Fellowship.  
  
Boromir spoke nervously, trying to convince Gandalf and Aragorn to turn back. "We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here."  
  
For once, Rhiannon agreed with him.  
  
A yell from behind her caused her to turn around, and she just glimpsed Frodo being dragged backward seemingly be some invisible force. Aragorn and Boromir rushed forward, hacking at a long, dark, snake-like thing that had wound it's way around Frodo's ankle. Rhiannon sprinted to help them as Aragorn freed Frodo and dragged him to safety.  
  
She stood astonished as a score more tentacles came out of the water, then ran forward with a Centaur battle cry in her native tongue, stabbing and slicing at the sinuous appendages. Suddenly, the water began to swell and move as some great thing rose out of it to meet flashing blades and the sharp, deadly arrows of Legolas.  
  
Again, the gargantuan squid-like beast siezed Frodo in one of its tentacles, holding him in the air above the thing's giant, tooth-lined maw. Legolas shot the monster in the head, allowing Aragorn to cut the tentacle holding Frodo and escape with him. Rhiannon took one last furious swipe at an offending tentacle and turned to retreat into the mines with the rest of the Fellowship.  
  
Just as she cleared the entrance, the creature's many tentacles seized the stone doors, ripping them from unseen hinges and collapsing the doorway with a rumble of Centaur-sized boulders, falling dust and flying rock splinters. When the dust settled and Rhiannon's sharp eyes became accustomed to the deep darkness, Gandalf re-lit his staff, throwing eerie shadows upon the skeletons and the faces of the Fellowship. Rhiannon decided that she had to learn how to call light to a stone.  
  
Gandalf spoke gravely in a way only sorcerers could. "We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard; there are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world."  
  
Rhiannon shivered at his words and moved on as Gandalf finished speaking.  
  
"Quietly, now. It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence will go unnoticed."  
  
*And what will be here to find us besides goblins if it doesn't?*  
  
***  
  
Well, how do you like? That was basically my first battle scene, so forgive me if it's not completely up to par. Please leave me a review if you've written a battle scene before and you have advice. More description, maybe, or more action? Any suggestions would be much appreciated.  
  
Anyway, I have to go now. I'll try to update again soon.  
  
Your Crazy Authoress,  
  
littlehorse :) 


	12. Blessed are the Hopeless

Hey everyone! Yes, I'm back! I'm no longer posting any chapters that are Author's Notes because FF.net doesn't like it when people do that. I'm also editing my story and mashing the first two chapters together because of the excellent advice of Eternity's Voice. Thanks so much hun! Your review was so cool to get and I'm following all of your advice! So if you guys want, go take a look at the first chapter. It's a little different than it was when I first posted it. Also, this chapter will be longer and more of my own special plot will be coming out. You see, I believe in having a reason for my character to have been dumped into Middle Earth. I've got it all outlined and it's very cool. I hope you guys like it!  
  
No, exams are not an excuse for me anymore. They're dead and gone. However, I still am very busy, so I'm only able to write on the weekends. I've got it worked out so that I write one story on one weekend, and on the next I write my other story. Yes, I am writing two stories at once. It's suicide. No one ever do it. I'm a bad example. So, I'll probably get an update in every two weeks. I'd better, anyway. I'm forcing myself to finish this fic. It WILL be finished. I'm using the Force to convince myself. Very ingenious, eh? *giggles* I make myself laugh. ;)  
  
Also, I've been immersed into the wonderful world of HTML, so now I can do real italics for thoughts instead of asterisks. Here's where I learned it if anyone is interested: www.htmltutorials.ca I really encourage everyone here to go to that site. It's so easy to learn and it's really fun. Also, it's really helpful for creating text documents for FF.net.  
  
Ummmm, I don't think I have anything else to say, so I'll get on with the Disclaimer and the story.  
  
**Disclaimer:** If I owned LOTR I wouldn't be writing here. I would be sitting on my butt in my mansion drinking Pina Coladas with little umbrellas in them and goggling at the pool boy. Is that a vivid enough picture?  
  


* * *

_Chapter 12: Blessed are the Hopeless_  
  


* * *

Dear Lugh,  
  
This place is cold and dreary. The stench of death and everything after death hangs in the air so heavily it's impossible to sleep. I'm never dry, no matter how many spells I use. The moisture of the caves clings to everyone's skin so it looks like we've been doing physical labor for hours on end. I suppose that's not so inaccurate, though, if walking can be considered physical labor.  
  
I can't see why the Dwarves ever mined here. Riches couldn't possibly be any excuse for me, especially in a place without sun. I've tried to get Gimli to explain why this "mithril" is so valuable. Why not just put spells of protection and strength on regular metals? Maybe they desire its beauty, though I've never been a witness to it.  
  
I must go now. Gandalf has declared that we are moving on again. To where, I cannot say, but I only hope it's better than the place we're in now. Small chance of that.  
  


* * *

Rhiannon put down her letter and blew on the sparkling ink to dry it. The rest of the Fellowship was gathering up their things and getting ready to move on to the next stone chamber. When she was sure the ink wouldn't smudge, she folded the letter and retied the rough twine that bound her other letters. She considered her correspondance to be her journal, and it became sacred to her, like she was writing a story that she knew must be told.  
  
"Where to now, O Dwarf Who Knows All That Rhiannon Doesn't?" she asked Gimli.  
  
The Dwarf shrugged and grinned at her, then responded, "I'd say we were going to the city of Dwarrowdelf, but then if we didn't end up going there I would no longer be the Dwarf Who Knows All That Rhiannon Doesn't, and I rather like that title."  
  
Rhiannon raised her eyebrow. She and Gimli had become fast friends in the Mines because of her interest in Dwarf culture. Gimli was an avid talker and could often go on and on about A Day In the Life of a Dwarf, no matter how menial the chore. Rhiannon found it amusing, but didn't say that to Gimli. She liked having someone to talk to. "Well, then, I guess I'll have to find something more annoying that I can call you. I would ponder about it here, but, alas, we Travelers have not yet reached our destination, and there is no time for poetry. Another time, then."  
  
Gimli chuckled and said, "I look forward to it, as long as it's nothing too degrading."  
  
Rhiannon laughed and retorted, "I wouldn't count on it."  
  
Before Gimli could respond, Gandalf called for everyone to follow him. Rhiannon sighed and hefted her pack, then walked along with the rest of the Fellowship.  
  


* * *

They had been going on for some time, the scenery and atmosphere never changing. Rhiannon had reduced her brain activity to that of which place to set her feet because she was afraid of what her wild imagination would come up with if they were discovered in the Mines. Up ahead, Gandalf's light wavered as he used his staff to find footing for himself, something Rhiannon was very suspicious that he didn't need to do. All of a sudden, the light stopped, and so did the rest of the Fellowship. Up ahead, Rhiannon heard the Wizard speak, but his words did little to comfort her.  
  
"I have no memory of this place..."  
  
Inwardly, Rhiannon groaned, and she settled down for yet another agonizing wait.  
  


* * *

Silence filled the hall. It rang down the three hallways that held either death, a much longer walk, or the way to the sun. It was beginning to unnerve Rhiannon. There were ten people in this one space! How could the air be so tense and quiet? She wanted to stand up and shout at everyone, to break the silence that was making her crazy, but she was too tired, and the silence too heavy.  
  
"Are we lost?" Rhiannon winced. She'd wanted the silence to be broken, but Pippin had said the "L" word, the one word she hadn't wanted to hear in a goblin-infested mine.  
  
"No, I don't think we are," Merry answered him in a hushed voice. "Shhhh. Gandalf's thinking."  
  
"Merry..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
Rhiannon rolled her eyes. Pippin truly had a one-track mind. She leaned back against the fallen column she was resting on and shook her braids in front of her face, peering at everyone from the safety of her long, dark hair. Pippin's comments had loosened the atmosphere somewhat, and Frodo now walked nervously over to Gandalf.  
  
"There's something down there," he said in an undertone. Rhiannon gasped and put her hand to her sword, but Gandalf's reply was calm, and spoke of no urgency.  
  
"It's Gollum," he said matter of factly. Rhiannon frowned. Gollum? What a strange name! She would have to find out more about this person Frodo and Gandalf were talking about.  
  
"Gollum!" Frodo's reply was surprised, and Rhiannon immediately became suspicious.  
  
"He's been following us for three days."  
  
"He escaped the dungeons of Barad-Dur?" The name sent shivers down Rhiannon's spine. She was fast disliking the chosen topic of conversation.  
  
"Escaped...or was set loose," Gandalf replied mysteriously. "And the Ring has drawn him here. He will never be rid of his need for it. He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. Smeagol's life is a sad story."  
  
The look on Frodo's face was surprised. Rhiannon took that to mean that he had not known this "Gollum" to go by any other name.  
  
"Yes, Smeagol he was once called, before the Ring came to him, before it drove him mad."  
  
Rhiannon leaned closer, becoming more interested by the minute.  
  
"It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance," Frodo exclaimed forcefully.  
  
Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow. "Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?"  
  
Rhiannon leaned back on her column once more, thinking hard about what Gandalf had just said. She thought about all the vicious rulers and dictators that stories told about, and wondered if things would have turned out for the worse if they hadn't taken power. Millions of lives had been lost over they years, but had they all died in vain? Was some greater Force working things out behind the scenes? It was troubling to think about. She had known no other gods than those that were patrons and protectors of Centaurs and Horse Lords. No god could control everything, and no god would want to. Were all the gods ruled by another, greater, All-Seeing God who knew what had to be done? She shook her head, thinking _No, It's not possible. The God would have revealed Himself to us. He would have wanted sacrifices and incense burned for him. It doesn't make sense._ Her attention was directed from her thoughts as Gandalf continued talking to Frodo.  
  
"Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."  
  
Frodo's reply sounded tired and sad, and Rhiannon's heart was saddened along with him. "I wish the Ring had never com to me. I wish none of this had happened."  
  
"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." Gandalf's words sounded comforting and sent a shiver of hope through Rhiannon. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe this quest wasn't as impossible as it sounded.  
  
"There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you also were meant to have it, and that is an encouraging thought. Ah," he added, straightening up and smiling. "It's that way!"  
  
"He's remembered!" Merry said, relieved.  
  
"No," replied Gandalf. "but the air doesn't smell so foul down there. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose!" He chuckled at himself. "Yes..."  
  
Rhiannon gathered her pack again, her brow furrowed in thought, and followed behind Legolas as the Fellowship moved on towards an unknown fate.  
  


* * *

It turned out that Gandalf's nose had led them aright. No goblins made surprise attacks and the silence wasn't so heavy as before. Rhiannon had a feeling all of the Fellowship had listened in on at least a part of Frodo's conversation with Gandalf.  
  
Up ahead, a small light that wasn't from Gandalf's staff shone. It was daylight, pure daylight, and Rhiannon turned her face up to it, breathing deeply as if the light was air for oxygen-starved lungs. It was then that she noticed her surroundings.  
  
They were in a vast stone chamber, the immense roof held up by a forest of great pillars. The place could have looked very gloomy and foreboding, but a rectangular hole in the ceiling allowed for a single shaft of sunlight to shine through, the angle of it casting light down onto the side of a wall and through yet another "window." The light gave majesty and an ancient awe to the chamber, and Rhiannon decided that maybe not all Dwarf havens were terrible.  
  
"Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!" Gandalf announced the the company.  
  
"Well, there's an eye opender, and no mistake!" Sam's wide-eyed exlaimation spoke aloud Rhiannon's thoughts.  
  
Gimli stepped up beside Rhiannon and grinned up at her. "I see my title still stands. Now I must think up a title for you. How about--"  
  
"No!" Rhiannon cut in hurriedly. She liked her name and didn't want any Dwarf, however humorless, to give her any other. "That's very kind of you, but I think I'll stick with Supreme Goddess of the Universe, thanks."  
  
Gimli roared with laughter and strode on past her to catch up with Gandalf and continue exploring the place his cousin Balin had ruled. She grinned after him and followed as the Fellowship approached a rotten wooden door hanging off of rusting hinges. Black arrows sprinkled the dark wood, and Gimli ran ahead to burst through the doors without caring for the splinters of wood falling all over the place.  
  
"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted, but he was already through the door and crouched beside a large stone slab.  
  
The slab of light that illuminated the great hall poured into this room also, focused entirely on an inscription on the stone slab in strange letters. It looked like there had been a battle in the room, with bones and weapons scattered about like so much discarded trash. Dried blood stained the floors and was splattered across the walls like a gruesome paint finish. A sob directed Rhiannon's attention as Gimli fell to his knees before the stone block. She stepped over carefully and tried to puzzle out the inscription to find out why Gimli was so distressed. But the letters were too strange to notice any pattern and she quickly gave up. Then, Gandalf quietly and soberly said the foreign words.  
  
"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead, then. It's as I had feared."  
  
Rhiannon gasped at the name Gandalf read. Balin was Gimli's cousin. He'd always bragged about Balin, and Rhiannon had suspected that he admired his cousin very much.  
  
Gandalf bent over and lifted the remains of a dark colored, leather bound book. Pages and dust fell from it as he moved it, and, looking closer, Rhiannon saw that the book hadn't originally been dark colored. Black blood was smeared all over the cover of it, and Rhiannon covered her mouth before she gasped again.  
  
"We must move on. We cannot linger," Legolas urgently whispered to Aragorn. Rhiannon agreed. She didn't like this place. It was too full of Death and pain and fear. But, if Gandalf heard Legolas' complaint, he didn't show it, and simply opened the book carefully and started reading.  
  
"They have taken the Bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes...drums in the deep...we cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. Will no one save us? They are coming..."  
  
A collective shiver went through the Fellowship. _Oh, gods... Something terrible happened here, and I really hope it doesn't happen to us,_ Rhiannon thought anxiously.  
  
Suddenly, a huge crash shook the air, followed by the sound of metal crashing on stone reverberating through the ground. As one, the company turned there heads to a small well built into the floor. Pippin's wide and frightened eyes stared back at them.  
  
_So much for my girlish dreams..._  
  
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf hissed angrily at Pippin. "Throw yourself in text time and rid us all of your stupidity!"  
  
Rhiannon raised her brow thoughtfully. _That's a good line. I'll have to remember it._  
  
BOOM! Another, stranger noise like huge drums sounded through the mines, again and again, getting louder and louder. Then, a horn sounded with it, accompanied by answering horns and the sound of running feet and harsh yells.  
  
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried, pointing at Frodo's sword belt. Frodo quickly unsheathed his sword a small way, looking in horror at the blade.  
  
_Curious... I've never seen a sword that glows blue before..._  
  
"Orcs!" yelled Legolas. Rhiannon sucked in her breath as her eyes widened. They had been discovered! She yanked her sword out of its sheath and breathed on the jewels twinkling on the hilt, awakening in them the power stored there. Immediately, her mind stopped racing and she became calmer, swinging her deadly blade back and forth like crouched wild cat, waiting for...something.  
  
Aragorn yelled at the hobbits, "Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!" then looked at Rhiannon as if he expected her to back down as well.  
  
"Hell, no!" she shouted back at him. "Just because I'm female doesn't mean I can't fight! Besides, you need everyone to help!" She stared right into his eyes, trying to make him see reason. "Come on. Let me help you," she added more gently.  
  
Aragorn let out an exasperated breath, but nodded his head for her to step forward again. She grinned savagely and waited as the pounding footsteps got closer and the yells became more clear.  
  
Aragorn turned away and help Boromir to wedge the door shut. Something slammed into it from the other side, making Boromir step away or get the wind knocked out of him.  
  
"They have a cave troll," he said to no one in particular, pessimism ringing in his voice.  
  
Gimli picked up two rusty axes and lept up on top of the tomb, snarling, "Let them come! There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"  
  
"Aye," Rhiannon said under her breath. "And there is also one Centaur who would be very pleased to make their acquaintance."  
  
Suddenly, time seemed to slow and the door shattered into a thousand wood fragments, and a score of grotesque, mutated, human-like creatures poured lethargically through the opening. All Rhiannon could hear was the sound of her own breathing, her own heart beat. She could no longer hear the screams of monsters and the heavy footsteps of something much larger behind them. She watched as Aragorn and Boromir ran in slow motion into the crowd of Orcs, hacking this way and that, and Legolas fired arrow after arrow into bare Goblin throats. Gandalf raised his sword also and joined in the fray.  
  
Then, with a snap, normal time resumed and all the sounds and feelings came rushing back, almost overwhelming her. The jewels on her sword flared brightly as her concentration came back and she raised her sword only to bring it back down for a killing blow the the neck of one particularly ugly Orc.  
  
The heavy footsteps became nearer. A loud roar echoed on the stone walls of the Balin's tomb. A creature even larger and more frightening than the goblins shuffled through the doorway. It raised it's huge, spiked club and swung it around haphazardly, striking down many goblins in its attempt to reach the Fellowship. Then the troll found Aragorn, and he stumbled backwards, narrowly missing a powerful swipe of the club. But, Aragorn was on the ground and was unable to roll out of the way in time. The club came down again and the troll trumpeted triumphantly as it swung a killing blow at Aragorn.  
  
Rhiannon cried out and tried to get nearer to help, but she was too far away. The club was getting closer, and just when Rhiannon thought that this would indeed be the last time she ever saw Aragorn, Boromir's sword sliced through the tough skin on the creature's arm, making it howl with rage as it's blow went awry and missed Aragorn.  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief and went back to slicing off heads and arms like it was something she did every day. She had a feeling she would throw up later, but she couldn't afford to at the moment.  
  
A cry of "Aragorn!" made her look around at Frodo, who was slumped up against a wall, the cave troll's spear in his chest. Simultaneous shouts of anguish rose over the sounds of battle, Sam ran at the troll, slashing wildly at it's legs. Merry and Pippin jumped on top of the creature, pummelling it with their fists and swords. Legolas climbed nimbly atop the troll and shot two arrows into the soft spot behind it's skull. The cave troll howled one last time and fell slowly to the ground.  
  
Rhiannon turned to look for Frodo, who was sprawled motionless on the ground.  
  
"No... Not him..."  
  


* * *

Yes! I finally finished this chapter! Woohoo! Yay for me! I did make this chapter a little longer than I usually do. Be happy. I also have to go to my sister's cheerleading competition (yuk) right now, so I have no time to look for errors. Sorry 'bout that. I have a feeling you guys would rather deal with a few spelling mistakes than have to wait until tomorrow for the chapter, so you're getting it now. Aren't I nice? :)  
  
Oh, by the way... I know I'm going to get a ton of reviews yelling at me for putting in that bit about "an All-Seeing God." No, I'm not trying to push my "beliefs" on anyone. Everyone wonders about this in their life and this is Rhiannon's time. She's growing up during the course of this fic, and you guys get to see it. Yay for you. Also, if I do nothing else by my writing, I want to make people think. If I don't make people think, my work is pointless. I want substance, and I always strive for controversy. So, flame me if you want. I've already told you my reasons, and if I do get any flames, I will disregard you as an illiterate idiot. So read the Author's Notes, people! Anyway, gotta go now. Review, please!  
  
Your Crazy Authoress,  
  
littlehorse :) 


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